Demon's Year
by Yami Faerie
Summary: "Demon Blood" 'verse. Dean has a year left before he goes to Hell, but he and Sam are being hunted by demons, the FBI, & even an escaped Gordon Walker. Will Dean be able to keep Sam alive before his Deal is up? Features lots of OCs, both human & demon.
1. One: Paperthin Hymn

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter One: Paperthin Hymn**

**I didn't expect the better part of a month to go by before I finally got this ready to post. RL suddenly got hectic on me, between helping my family out, my husband working three weeks in a row, Girl Scouts camping, and now I'm a dresser for a summer outdoor musical, professional style. I'm going to try to aim for one update every week (I have the entire story planned out, but not so much written, sadly) until things in my life calm down a little, but don't be surprised if updates are incredibly sporadic at first. Hopefully I'll be able to settle down into a more regular update pattern like before.**

**So! New story, first chapter. I plan to incorporate a lot of the stories from SPN's season 3 into this story, so if there's any dialogue that comes from an episode, I'll be sure to give credit. As for this chapter, it's all me, including the lyrics near the end. The piano music that goes along with the lyrics hasn't been written yet, but I hope to finish and record it for you to hear someday. It sounds fantastic in my head; I just hope it comes out sounding just as fantastic as I've imagined. Anyway, that's enough rambling from this crazy author. Please, have a sit, have a read, and enjoy! This story promises to be a crazy ride. :)**

* * *

><p>"<em>Do you think that you need to be saved?"<em>

"_I think that temptation's a bitch, but family is stronger."_

— _Dean Winchester and Danielle Young, "Demon Virus"_

* * *

><p>Sam Winchester stood at the base of the driveway, staring up at the cream-colored house before him with the dark green door, the English hedges and the tall trees. He hadn't been to this house since the previous November when he and Dean had attended that enjoyable Thanksgiving dinner, hadn't been to this <em>city<em> since January, and coming here again with the news that he had to impart, well… He was scared, but he had to do this.

Walking up the driveway wasn't easy. Sam was tempted to ask Dean to get out of the Impala and do this with him, but Dean still didn't quite understand why Sam was doing this after what happened only two nights earlier, so it was better to do it on his own.

Swallowing hard, Sam reached out and pressed the doorbell. Seconds later, the front door was opened and the pale face of Lydia Young was revealed.

"Sam?" she whispered. "What are you doing here? What happened to you?"

It was more than clear that Lydia had suffered a great deal in her daughter's absence, and it made Sam's heart ache even more as the slimmest glimmer of hope filtered into the mother's emotions.

"I…" Sam had to swallow again. This was going to be even harder than he'd thought. "It's about Dan-Danielle," he finally managed, hating how his voice caught on her name.

Tears glimmered in Lydia's eyes. "Did you find her?" she asked softly.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. "We were both captured," he finally managed to say. "Dani — I tried to save her, but —" He broke off and squeezed his eyes shut again, feeling a few tears slip free.

Lydia let out a sob and Sam forced himself to open his eyes again. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I tried so hard, but she was shot…"

He half-expected Lydia to start hitting him, telling him what a failure he was, but the distraught mother went the other direction and all but collapsed into his arms. "My little girl," she sobbed, clutching at him as he wrapped his arms around her. Her sobs grew in volume as her shoulders shook and Sam felt more tears escape.

A moment later, Lydia's husband, Harry came to the door. He took one look at Sam and his sobbing wife, and instantly realized what had happened. "How?" he asked softly.

"Demons," Sam said. "It was all a trap and I tried to get us out, but Dani got shot and—" He couldn't tell them what Danielle had done to try and save her family, save _him_, from the darkness that she, like Sam, carried deep within her. "I tried," he repeated, voice barely audible over Lydia's harsh sobs. "I _tried_…"

"I know," Harry whispered, reaching out and gently gathering his wife into his arms. "Where —" He broke off and looked away, blinking hard a few times. "Do you know where her body is?"

Lydia let out another loud sob as Sam nodded. "We were in Wyoming, but I convinced the authorities to transfer her to the morgue at the local hospital, instead."

Lydia continued to sob and tears finally escaped from Harry's blue eyes, trailing silently down his cheeks as he held his wife close. "Thank you for bringing her home," he said quietly.

Sam nodded again. "She told me to tell you…" He trailed off as he remembered Danielle's final words to him in the middle of that forgotten graveyard.

"_Don't tell my family what I did."_

"To tell you that she loved you all and that she wished…" Sam swallowed hard and looked away.

"I understand," Harry said after a moment. "Will you stay? For the funeral?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "She was a…" He somehow managed a smile. "I loved her as much as a broken-hearted man could love another."

"And she loved you the same," Harry replied. "I know she did. Again, thank you…"

"Yeah," Sam whispered. "I'm so sorry." And he turned and walked back to the 1967 Chevy Impala, back to where Dean was waiting. Dean, who had just under a year left to live, who couldn't be saved, even if Sam knew that he would try, anyway.

Why did everything have to hurt so damn much?

* * *

><p>The transfer of prisoners from one detention center to another is a fairly straight-forward deal. Each prisoner is checked, cuffed, and placed on a small, white bus for transport. One guard accompanies the bus driver to keep an eye on the men. Easy job, easy pay.<p>

Tobias Jones calmly watched as the group of eight men were checked off by Colby Thomas, making sure that each man was seated before signing off on the form he was taking with him and climbing onto the bus. "You ladies ready for a five-hour drive?" he asked loudly. Six of the men snorted, one grumbled, and the last one merely blinked his dark eyes before looking away. Tobias chuckled and looked back down at Colby.

It was a bright, cloudless day, but thankfully it didn't tend to get very warm in the beginning of May. That made it a little strange to see sweat sliding down Colby's neck. "You all right?" Tobias asked with a frown.

"Huh?" Colby blinked at him before starting. "Oh! Yeah, I'm good, the uniform just seems a little stuffy today, that's all."

Tobias laughed. "Don't tell me you're gettin' sick, man!" he said.

"I'm not," Colby scowled. "Best be off, you know they bitch if you're late."

"Whatever," Tobias chuckled. "I'll see you later, yeah?" Colby waved and walked away as the bus driver shut the door and drove over to the gated exit. Ten minutes later, they were on a two-lane state road, heading south.

"Can we listen to the radio?" one of the prisoners asked from the back. "It gets mighty quiet without some good music."

Tobias rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at the bus driver. "Driver picks the music," he told the men. "I don't wanna hear no complainin' whether it's rock, rap or even country, you got that?" There were grumbled assents from seven of the prisoners. The last remained just as silent as before.

About thirty minutes later, the driver cursed under his breath. "What's up?" Tobias asked him over his shoulder.

"Got a stupid truck goin' too slow in front o' me and an idiot pick-up trying to pass from behind me," the driver complained.

Tobias turned slightly to look through the steel cage separating the driver from the rest of the bus' occupants and out the front windshield. "Well, he's not gonna manage with the oncoming traffic," he said, nodding at the grouping of small cars rushing by.

"He's trying to pass on my right side," said the driver.

"What?" Tobias looked, and sure enough, an old Ford pick-up was flying up the shoulder. "Dumb-ass."

"Tell me about it," sighed the driver. "I'm definitely keeping back on this one."

Tobias watched as the Ford got closer to the nose of the bus and finally passed it. Just as it moved in front of the bus, however, the truck up ahead slammed on its brakes. The Ford swerved to the left (thankfully for it, there was no oncoming traffic), and the bus driver twisted the wheel to the right —

There was a sudden upward slope in their path, and no time to try and avoid it.

The next thing Tobias was aware of was the sensation of almost flying, followed by screeching and the pain of his body slamming against something hard and metal. He wasn't even sure which part of the bus he was rammed into. An eternity later, the screeching stopped, all momentum vanished and everything went quiet.

Then he felt a hand grabbing his gun. "Hey!" he started to shout, but then the gun went off and he knew no more.

The bus had landed on its side, and both the Ford and the larger truck had slammed to a halt some fifty feet away. A few seconds later, the back emergency door on the bus burst open, and the silent prisoner with dark skin and black eyes emerged, hands un-cuffed and the guard's gun in his hands.

"Gordon!" The man turned to see three others running towards him from the trucks. One was tall and thin with light brown, curly hair; the second was shorter, more squat, with darker hair and facial hair; the last was balding, tanned skin glistening in the sunlight. "C'mon!"

Gordon Walker grinned and moved forward. The balding man held a jacket that he wrapped around him, concealing the top half of his orange jumpsuit, and he wrapped an arm around Gordon's shoulders, leading him over to the Ford. "What's next, man?" asked the shorter man.

Gordon glanced back at the bus before turning to his partners-in-crime. "We find Sam Winchester," he said, "and we kill him." He slid into the pick-up truck and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Danielle's funeral was four days after Sam delivered the news of her death, and while Dean wasn't comfortable attending, he knew it was important to Sam that they go. Even though she had turned on them in the end, Danielle had been a very good friend.<p>

It was a hard thing, seeing Danielle's family. Her sisters were distraught, faces pale and tear-streaked during the service. Her parents were also pale-faced, but it seemed their grief had reached a place beyond tears, now. Dean shifted uncomfortably at he sat next to Sam in his monkey suit. The funeral service was taking place inside a Mormon chapel, which, for some reason Dean couldn't understand but _definitely_ appreciated, had padded pews.

The crowd consisted of Danielle's small family, neighbors, members of Danielle's ward, and several of Danielle's friends, Roxanne the most prominent of them all with her bright red hair and lip ring, her girlfriend Taryn sitting quietly beside her, autumn-colored hair as curly as ever. Most of Danielle's other friends looked like typical college students; some were clearly dancers like Danielle had been, while others were merely schoolmates from other classes that she had somehow managed to bond with.

Danielle had been the most non-discriminating girl Dean had ever known. It made her betrayal that much worse in his mind.

There were lots of flowers set up around Danielle's coffin and the pulpit, though no roses. Danielle had once said that roses were clichéd and pretty much overrated these days. She'd preferred other flowers like daisies and daffodils. Sam had said that she had that in common with Jess, and the look in his eyes made Dean's chest ache.

There was a musical number, an original piece Danielle had composed herself. Dean had already known that she played the piano, but he'd never known she was capable of composing, as well.

"Hey, I'm Roxanne Parker, one of Danielle's friends, and this is Taryn Fisher," said Roxy, standing close to her girlfriend as they reached the pulpit. "Dani —" Roxy broke off for a moment and swallowed. "She uh, she started writing this song after her husband Jared died last year." She held up the sheet music. "Dani wrote me a letter saying that she didn't know how to express her emotions over his passing, that the notes making up this song came to her months before the lyrics." She lowered the pages and shuffled them nervously. "She also wrote that the words came to her after two new friends came into her life and shared a similar experience that helped her to start healing."

Dean glanced at Sam, knowing that they were the friends Danielle had written about.

"Dani finished the song a few months ago," Roxy continued, "but she chose not to perform it for anyone, and she told me that it had no words, but the letter…" She trailed off and Taryn wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "She wrote that the words had been written back in November, and that she…" A sob escaped and Roxy took a moment before continuing. "Dani wrote that she wanted Taryn and me to perform this song for you today, at her funeral." Her dark eyes met Dean's. "She wrote this letter the day she died."

There was a long moment of silence as everyone took in the words. Sam was sitting stiffly next to Dean, and he couldn't even imagine how Sam felt about this knowledge. "Danielle knew she was going to die that day," Roxy continued, "knew it, and accepted it." She glanced at Taryn for a moment. "I hope you listen to every word of this song and that… that you love it as much as we do." Roxy headed over to the piano and set up her sheet music before looking over at Taryn, who took a deep breath and nodded.

The first notes were soft, but slowly gained complexity as Taryn began to sing.

_"The day you left me_  
><em>It felt like the sun had gone.<em>  
><em>The day you left me<em>  
><em>It felt like the world was done.<em>  
><em>I didn't know how to let you go,<em>  
><em>Didn't know how to say good-bye.<em>  
><em>But now I see you've always been with me,<em>  
><em>Standing by my side.<em>

_And now I know_  
><em>That love will find a way.<em>  
><em>And now I know<em>  
><em>That after night will always come the day.<em>  
><em>God's plan isn't always clear<em>  
><em>But so long as I hold you dear<em>  
><em>I'll always know<em>  
><em>That I'll see you again someday.<em>

_The day I met you_  
><em>It felt like my world had changed.<em>  
><em>But when I lost you<em>  
><em>It seemed the song remained the same.<em>  
><em>I don't know why I never saw the tide<em>  
><em>Drawing you away.<em>  
><em>But I can see you'll always be with me<em>  
><em>Lighting up my way.<em>

_And now I know_  
><em>That love will find a way.<em>  
><em>And now I know<em>  
><em>That after night will always come the day.<em>  
><em>God's plan isn't always clear<em>  
><em>But so long as I hold you dear<em>  
><em>I'll always know<em>  
><em>That I'll see you again someday."<em>

The music swelled at this point, and Dean saw Roxy's eyes close as her fingers made their way over the keys on the piano. It seemed clear that she had quickly memorized the song in the few short days of practice that she'd had. Then the music became softer, and Taryn's lips parted once more.

_"The day I leave you_  
><em>It could feel like the sun has gone.<em>  
><em>The day I leave you<em>  
><em>It might feel like the world is done.<em>  
><em>But life goes on the way it's always done,<em>  
><em>Leaving you to find your way.<em>  
><em>Still I promise you I'll always be with you,<em>  
><em>Guiding each step you take.<em>

_Just always know_  
><em>That love will find a way.<em>  
><em>And always know<em>  
><em>That after night will always come the day.<em>  
><em>God's plan isn't always clear<em>  
><em>But so long as we hold each other dear<em>  
><em>You'll always know<em>  
><em>That you'll see me again someday.<em>

_You'll always know_  
><em>That I'll see you again… Someday."<em>

* * *

><p>Sam and Dean drove over to the cemetery to where Danielle was going to be buried in a plot right next to her husband that had been purchased by the dead husband's rich grandparents. It was a pretty spring day that clashed with the somber atmosphere. Sam murmured that Danielle would've liked that, and Dean couldn't help but smile.<p>

Once the coffin had been lowered into the ground, the other people who had come started to make their way back to their cars. Dean stood quietly beside Sam as Roxy approached them alone, her girlfriend standing about ten feet away with some boy.

"Hey," she said softly, smiling sadly.

"Hey," Sam replied just as softly.

There was a moment of silence.

"This is the letter Danielle wrote to me," Roxy finally said.

Dean watched as she handed Sam a sheet of paper that already looked careworn. "I received it four days ago," Roxy told them softly. Dean stepped closer to Sam and read the letter himself.

_Dear Roxy,_

_By the time you get this, I'll be dead. I'm sorry I broke my promise, but it had to be done. I just wish I could tell you why._

_You know that song I composed after Jared died? I know I told you that I never found quite the right words to go with the music, but the words actually came to me last November after I met Sam and Dean. Learning the truth of what happened to Jared and being given the chance to move on helped me find a way to express my emotions over his death. The sheet music is on my bookcase. I want you and Taryn to perform the song at my funeral. I imagine this must be too much to ask of the both of you, but I must ask it, regardless._

_I'm still in South Dakota as I write this, but by the end of the day, I'll be in Wyoming, and I'll be dead. I've known this was my future for maybe 24 hours now, and I have no choice but to accept it. I tried to divert destiny, tried to save the world, only to find that I had played a role on the grand stage towards ending everything. There is so much more going on than any of us ever expected, and even though I wish I could divulge the details, I can't. Too much is riding on me, riding on my coming death. Sam has to be the last one standing. I can't change it._

_When you show this to the Winchesters (I know that Sam will not only bring my body back home, but he'll insist on staying for the funeral), let them know it's okay for them to tell you how I died. My family can't know what I did, but I trust you to carry the burden of the knowledge of my actions._

_I have one final request. Please don't lose contact with my family, and please stay in contact with the Winchesters, no matter where you go or what you do. I promise you'll understand why someday._

_Roxy, you're the best friend I ever had, and I will miss you more than words could ever express. Please take care of yourself and Taryn, and please live for me. Live your life to its fullest._

_All my love,_

_Danielle_

"I asked her to promise me not to do anything stupid like killing someone to protect them," Roxy said quietly. "That was back in January, right after you two took off. I knew she wouldn't keep it, but I deluded myself of the truth, anyway."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. "She stabbed Sam in the back," he said. "She killed him and took off because Azazel only needed one of the special children alive to be a leader. I made a Deal with a crossroads demon to bring Sam back to life, but I'm going to Hell in a year." He looked down at Roxy. "We managed to figure out where Danielle was going, and we got to her destination first. Sam tried to stop her from following Azazel's orders, but she said…" He sighed. "She said she had no choice, that destiny's a real thing, and then she opened a doorway to Hell to unleash an army. Sam had to shoot her."

Roxy's dark face was blank for a long moment before she blinked, sniffed, swiped at her suddenly-wet eyes and nodded. "That's definitely one helluva burden to carry," she said wetly with a forced chuckle. "Still, I'm glad I know the truth." She smiled sadly before asking for both Sam and Dean's contact information, including Bobby Singer's address and main phone number. After that, she returned to Taryn, taking her girlfriend's hand before leading her from the cemetery, the nameless young man trailing after them.

Dean and Sam stayed long after the coffin had been lowered into the ground and the others had left. "You think we shoulda salted and burned her?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head. "She won't come back." He took a deep breath before looking over at Dean. "She sacrificed her entire future because she thought I was a better person than her, that she had to save _me_ and damn herself." There was a moment of silence. "It hurts," he finally whispered.

Dean looked away. "Yeah," he mumbled in agreement. He remembered Sam saying nearly a year ago that Azazel wanted to get both Dean and their father into the depths of Hell, but when Danielle had stabbed Sam and he'd died… Dean's ability to reason had flown out the window. Dean had been so determined to save Sam he'd barely even considered the consequences of his actions, and Danielle had lost her own life as a result.

It didn't change the fact that he still kind of wanted everything to just be _over._

"Don't," Sam suddenly said. "I'm still gonna try to find a way out of your Deal. You can't give up."

Dean opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say, so he licked his lips before closing them tightly. Sam glanced at him, eyes wet with too many emotions before he turned and walked away, back toward the Impala. Dean watched him go before he turned back to Danielle's grave.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You didn't deserve what happened, and neither did we." He took a deep breath and forced himself to head back to the car, as well. He had just under just a year to live and he was starting to think the time would be spent convincing Sam that he _could_ survive without Dean. He _had_ to; Dean already knew there was no way out of the Deal.

Part of him didn't even _want_ there to be a way out of it.

He silently drove them to their motel. "We need to head up to Bobby's in the morning," he told Sam as he parked outside the motel and headed for their room. "He should have more information about the cities all those demons might have hit."

"I know," Sam replied quietly. There wasn't much else to be said after that, and silence fell inside the Impala as it sped down the road.

* * *

><p>"What are they waiting for?"<p>

Ellen looked up at the frustrated tone of her daughter's voice. Jo hadn't been in the best of moods since Wyoming, and Ellen had to wonder what was making her angry: Sam's failed plan to get Danielle to stop following Azazel's orders, Dean's Crossroad's Deal, the fact that a few hundred souls had escaped before they had managed to get the doors to the Gate shut, or that the Winchester's had taken time off for a funeral. Or maybe it was the way in which all those demons had escaped and then _vanished_.

"Jo?" she asked her daughter softly. Jo looked over at her, blue eyes hard and tired.

"It's been a week," Jo said. "_Seven whole days_ without any trace. Are they waiting for orders or something? Why can't we find any of them?"

Ellen sighed and ran a hand through her auburn hair. "I don't know, hon," she said. "For now, all we can do is track the missing person's reports and hope we get a hit."

Jo scowled, but nodded. Ellen glanced across the study to where Bobby sat at his desk, head buried in an old book about Crossroad's Demons. Sam had said that he had already gone through several like-minded books after John's Deal the previous summer and didn't hold out much hope for finding a way out of Dean's Deal, but that he was still determined to try, anyway. It seemed Bobby was of the same mind.

Those Winchesters were stubborn to the end, Ellen thought to herself as she printed out another missing person's report. And speaking of…

The Impala's engine rumbled into hearing, growing ever closer until Ellen could hear the old car turn into the salvage yard. "It's about time," Jo grumbled from her stack of books and Ellen had to keep from rolling her eyes at her daughter's tone of voice.

A minute later, Dean burst through the kitchen door and strode into the study. "Who's makin' food?" he asked with a wide grin on his face. "I'm starvin'."

Sam was trailing behind him, head turned down enough that his floppy hair hid his face and completely silent.

"It's good to see you, too," Ellen replied sarcastically, pulling Dean into a hug. "There's leftover roast in the fridge."

"Awesome," Dean proclaimed. "You're the best, Ellen." He snagged Jo into a quick hug and nodded at Bobby before returning to the kitchen. Sam stood in the entryway to the study, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched his brother walk away.

"Hey, Sam," Ellen said softly, leaning forward to catch his eyes. "Glad you're both back safe and sound."

"Yeah," Sam said quietly with a small smile. "Glad to be back."

The sadness in his hazel eyes pulled at Ellen's heartstrings, and she couldn't help but reach out and pull him into a warm hug. A few seconds later, Sam returned it, muscles unclenching as he relaxed into the embrace.

"How was the funeral?" Jo asked, tone much more subdued now.

"Good," Sam replied as Ellen stepped back. "It… it was good. How uh, how's the search going for our missing army?"

"Poorly," Jo sighed. "We've got over a hundred missing person's reports from the cities that reported seeing that strange, dark storm cloud of doom." She held up the stack of papers that Ellen had printed out.

Sam snorted softly. "But no activity yet?"

Jo shook her head. "None," she said. "Do you think they're waiting for something?"

"You mean besides their supposed leader who refuses to step up to the plate?" Sam asked wryly. "I think they'll keep waiting for a little longer before they figure out there's no leader to follow, and then — well, chaos."

"The sad thing is I can see that happening," Ellen said with a sigh. "You should eat, too, Sam," she added after a moment. "Lord knows your brother puts away enough for the both of you."

Sam glanced around the room before nodding with a faint smile.

"Dude, this roast is _good_, you gotta try it!" Dean shouted from the kitchen. Sam chuckled and left the room. Ellen watched him go, silently wondering at the hardened look in his eyes. It was vastly different from the mourning and broken, but healing look she'd seen when they had first met nearly a year ago.

"They're both different," Jo said quietly, and really, Ellen couldn't blame either Winchester. Dean had a little under a year to live, and she could tell that Sam didn't have much hope that he could save him.

"I think," she said, giving her daughter a sad smile and catching Bobby's eye, "we all are."

* * *

><p><em>TBC<em>…


	2. Two: The Girl with the Knife

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Two: The Girl with the Knife**

**It's a new chapter! Yay! *Ahem* So there's some dialogue taken from 3.01 "The Magnificent Seven" in this chapter as well as a mention or two of 3.04 "Sin City" because I'm the author and I can play around with the timeline however I choose. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>You mean to tell me that you haven't thought about it at all? Haven't thought about how it smelled, how it <em>tasted_, the way it sang in your veins when you used its power?"_

— _Mrs. Weston as possessed by a demon, "Demon's Trial"_

* * *

><p>She stood in the old cemetery, staring down at the worn headstone, the letters carved into it almost unreadable. The idea that no one had come to visit this grave in the last few centuries didn't really surprise her at all, not when her mother had died in childbirth and her father had never remarried before she had succumbed to the Plague. She wondered what she would be now if she hadn't sold her soul for power. Would she have gone to Heaven?<p>

Truly, it didn't much matter, but as she stared at her own grave, she couldn't help but wonder what it was about her that made her different. Why did she still remember what it meant to be human? Why couldn't she have been like every other demon, and been stripped of everything but the basics? Of course, it was only the fact that she was different that had attracted Azazel's attention, that had caused things to be the way they were. The road ahead was going to be very lonely, but she had no choice. She had a job to do, a cause she believed in despite the odds.

She tucked a stray lock of curly red hair behind her ear as she knelt down and placed a single rose before her own grave. It seemed silly that a demon would pay such sentimental respects like this, but then, she wasn't just any demon. "Ruby's back," she whispered with a small smile. Rising to her feet, Ruby glanced around the cemetery to make sure she was alone, and then in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

* * *

><p>"The seven deadly sins," Dean dead-panned as he stared at Bobby. Sam pressed his lips together and kept from saying anything.<p>

"We have no idea what escaped when that Devil's Gate was opened," Bobby said with a tense shrug. "There coulda easily been demons with powers we know nothing about 'cause they've been trapped in the Pit for God knows how long, but I found this in _'Binsfeld's classification of demons.'_ In 1589, Binsfeld ID'd the seven sins — not just as human vices, but as actual devils."

Dean grimaced. "I guess that does make sense," he sighed. "Which means we got Envy sittin' in the next room."

The group of Hunters had been at Bobby's for another week before they caught wind of two potential jobs. One was in Elizabethtown, Ohio, its citizens suddenly turning to drinking and gambling in throes before committing suicide; the other job was in Lincoln, Nebraska and had strange insect activity along with sudden crop failures. Ellen and Jo had taken the Ohio hunt while Sam, Dean and Bobby drove to Nebraska. "Sin City, here we come," had been Ellen's last words before they went their separate ways.

Of course, Lincoln turned out to have a lot more going on than Bobby had first thought, and if that hadn't been enough, they had run into two Hunters, Isaac and Tamara who were married and hadn't wanted to work with Bobby or the Winchesters until they had gotten themselves surrounded by all seven demons in a bar. Isaac, as far as they could tell, was dead, having been forced to drink an entire bottle of Drain-o.

Speaking of Tamara, Sam glanced over his shoulder to see her leaning against a wall of the house they were currently holed up in, holding her stake with a blank face and dead eyes. Sam could feel the deep grief in her that was pretty much eclipsed by her anger. Unsurprisingly, while most of it was directed at Dean and Bobby, the better part was reserved for him. "Word travels fast when Gordon Walker says a freak of nature is masquerading as a Hunter," Isaac had told him earlier that day, only to be shoved against a wall by Dean, who had threatened to chop of the black man's balls if he or his wife said another word about Gordon or against Sam.

Sometimes Sam didn't know whether to love Dean's overprotective nature or not. It wasn't like they weren't right about him, though he supposed he should at least be grateful that he, Bobby, Ellen, Jo and Dean were the only ones still alive who knew that he'd been fed demon's blood as a baby. If any other Hunters found that out, he'd probably be dead inside a week.

Although, being killed by other Hunters would at least get Dean out of his Deal, right?

He felt guilty a moment later for even thinking such a thing, because he already knew that Dean didn't want him to do anything like that. Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that when the clock struck midnight on April 27 next year…

"We shouldn't have left him," Tamara spoke up suddenly. "He wasn't dead."

"We don't know that," Bobby responded at once. "They made Isaac swallow that entire container. It's as good as suicide."

Tamara's eyes flashed and her anger went up a notch, but she didn't say anything.

Lincoln had felt strange to Sam, mostly because he could have sworn that he had sensed eight, not seven demons in the area. He suppressed a small wince when his head spiked with pain briefly. The last week had been like this for him, and he'd already noticed some changes about himself. While his empathy had resettled itself back into the normal rules of working non-stop without mental shielding, the telekinesis didn't cause any more random explosions, the demon-sensing worked as well as ever and he continued to avoid problems with the mind control, the electrokinesis was losing strength and frequency (which could only be good), there were no signs of any visions, and the super-strength seemed to be fading, as well.

Sam hadn't mentioned any of this to Dean as of yet, mostly due to the fact that if his brother wasn't on the job, then all he seemed to want was food, liquor and sex. Sam hated it, if he were to be honest with himself, but he could clearly feel that while Dean didn't necessarily want to die, the idea that it was all finally going to be over brought a strong sense of relief to him. There was no need to worry about much of anything anymore in his mind, apart from the job and, apparently, Sam's honor. Not that Sam particularly _liked_ being called a freak of nature by people he didn't even know just because a lunatic said he was, but he already knew it was the truth. Gordon Walker had turned out to be right about more than he'd thought.

"Are we going to question Envy or not?" Tamara finally asked. Bobby sighed and nodded, leading the way into the next room where Envy, in the body of a very unassuming man named Walter who had gone missing the night the Devil's Gate had been opened, was tied up in a chair underneath a Devil's Trap. He chuckled as they stood around him. Sam wanted answers as much as the other three, but he hung back, Azazel's words coming back to him and making him suddenly hesitant.

"_You are _everything_ I could want in a leader, Sam."_

The words still bothered him, two weeks later.

"So you know who I am," Envy said, attracting Sam's attention.

"We do," Bobby said calmly. "We're not impressed. Now, why are you here? What are you after?"

Envy just grinned.

"He asked you a question," Dean bit out, face carved into that of the perfect soldier. Envy's eyes followed Dean as he leaned against an old table. "What d'you want?"

The grin faded ever so slightly as the demon looked around him, eyes skating over Sam before returning. He grinned at Sam and started laughing as Dean pulled out a small bottle of holy water and splashed some on him. Envy broke into groans and grunts, teeth bared as the holy water sizzled against his host's skin. "We already have… what we want," the demon finally growled out between heavy breaths as he slowly lifted his head again.

"And what's that?" Dean asked.

Envy met Dean's eyes and said, "We're out."

There was a moment of silence.

"We're free," the demon continued, slowly easing back upright in his chair. "Thanks to you, my kind are… _everywhere_."

Sam swallowed, thoughts unwittingly turning to Danielle for a moment before he pushed them away.

"Azazel said he was going to unleash an army," Bobby said.

Envy grinned. "'I am legion, for we are many'," he quoted before chuckling. "Honestly, we're all celebrating, having a little fun." He looked back at Sam. "And for the record, there's no army happening. I'd much rather see people's insides on their outsides on my own terms."

Tamara stepped forward, dark eyes trained on the demon. "I'm gonna put you down like a dog," she spat, expression still blank, but eyes hard.

"Please," the demon said, looking away from Sam and eyeing the female Hunter. He started laughing again. "You really think you're better than me?" He looked around the room again. "Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh?" He looked at Dean. "What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust."

Dean had crossed his arms by this point, but all he did was shrug.

"And Tamara. All that wrath?" Envy clucked his tongue a few times in fake sympathy, and Tamara's blank façade started to slip. "It's the reason you and Isaac became Hunters in the first place, isn't it?" His blue eyes were trained on the woman as he leaned forward as much as possible in his restraints. "It's so much easier to drink in the rage than to face what really happened all those years ago."

Sam, Dean and Bobby didn't know how Isaac and Tamara had become Hunters who specialized in demons, but it wasn't too hard to guess that something must have happened to someone they had both loved. Whatever it was, it finally caused Tamara to break. Her face twisted in rage and anguish, and she back-handed the demon with a strangled scream. Envy took the blow, head whipping to the side sharply before she struck him again, sending his face in the other direction. Bobby and Dean moved toward her, pulling her away from the demon and she struggled violently against them. "Let me go!" she shouted angrily.

Envy moved his jaw around a couple times before returning his gaze to Sam. "You know," he said softly, "if Azazel had lived and made you his precious leader, I would still be here with the others, having fun and living it up."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Even if he'd lived, I still wouldn't lead a single demon," he replied just as softly.

Tamara finally stopped struggling. "What's he talking about?" she asked loudly. "Who's Azazel? What leader?"

Envy started laughing. "Someone doesn't know!" he said in a sing-song voice before turning serious. "You can call me a sin all you want, but you know that we're all just natural, _human_ instinct. You can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just _animals_." Dean stepped away from Tamara and quietly eyed the demon. "Horny," Envy said quietly, "greedy, hungry, _violent_ animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals, too."

There was a long moment of silence. Sam refused to meet Tamara's questioning gaze.

"The others," Envy breathed after a long moment had passed. "They're comin' for me." He leaned back in his chair with a distinct sense of satisfaction. "And they're gonna gut every last one of you."

That's when Dean chuckled. "Maybe," he said, "but the others are not gonna find you, 'cause you'll be back in Hell. Someone send this clown packing," he added as the satisfied look faded from the demon's suddenly-pale face, stepping away and turning to walk out of the room.

"My pleasure," Tamara said, spine straight as her face took on the satisfaction. Meanwhile, Dean snagged Sam's shoulder and pulled him from the room, Bobby following just behind them.

The screaming started as the three men came to a halt in the corner of the next room over. "I don't think we're gonna have to worry about hunting them," Bobby said.

"What did he say to you?" Dean asked Sam, ignoring Bobby for the moment.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Just that he wouldn't've followed Azazel even if he was still alive," he said. "Dean, we can't take on six demons, there's no way I could stop them all, even with the telekinesis."

"Tamara wouldn't much like seeing you try," Dean said sarcastically. "I don't think we got much choice in the matter. I could stay here, buy you guys some time while you take Tamara and head —"

"No!" Sam and Bobby said at once. "You're insane, Dean," Sam snapped. "Just forget about it, okay?"

"Sam's right," Bobby agreed.

There was a moment of silence, punctuated by Tamara's chanting and Envy's yelling.

"There's no place we could run to that they wouldn't find us," Bobby said quietly. "Like it or not, we're gonna have to make a stand here."

"Well," Dean said, "let's not make it easy for them."

Just then, Envy let out a final scream that shook the house as Tamara completed the exorcism. The body of the host was slumped in the chair, and Sam could already sense that the man himself hadn't managed to survive the combined possession and exorcism. Tamara snapped her book shut and placed it on the table before striding into the room. "What now?" she asked.

"We think he was right and the other six sins are gonna come here," Sam said. "We're gonna have to find a way to trap and exorcise them all before they kill us."

"I'm in," Tamara said briskly. "What's the plan?"

* * *

><p>"I think we got a hit."<p>

"What?" FBI Special Agent Victor Henricksen looked up from his computer to see his partner holding up a videotape. "A hit?"

"This came from a hospital in southern Wyoming," Reidy said. "About a week ago, two guys came in with a dead girl, said they'd been attacked while camping and the girl was shot by their attackers, but get this." A funny little smirk crossed his face before he continued. "There was no police report filed, no investigation, and the name on the insurance card was almost identical to one we know was used by their father seven years ago." He held out the tape.

"Are you sure it's them?" Victor asked, standing and taking the tape. Reidy's smirk grew as he nodded.

"Positive," he said. Less than a minute later, the two men were ensconced in a small room with a TV, playing the security footage.

"It's them," Victor breathed, watching the way the shorter man on the tape kept a careful hand on the taller one's shoulder. "It's the Winchesters." He couldn't believe his luck. It'd been hard to find any traces of the boys after they escaped from the bank robbery in Milwaukee, and it had been downright impossible to find anything after Sam's miraculous escape from the prison outside of Little Rock, so this… It kind of felt like finding the Holy Grail. "Did they identify the girl they brought in?"

"Yeah," Reidy said, lifting up a file in his hands and opening it. "Her name's Danielle Elizabeth Young. She was shot in the abdomen, bled out in a matter of minutes." He paused, eyes lifting from the file to meet Victor's own. "She's from Provo, Utah," he said softly.

Victor knew they'd spent about a month in that city, though he'd never been able to identify their reasons. No one had died, been robbed, threatened, deceived, anything. It was like they'd taken a fucking vacation for no reason. But now he had a name to put with the city. "Did they say what their relationship with her was?"

"Girlfriend to Samuel," Reidy answered grimly. "But here's the interesting part. Young was a widow, had a husband named Jared Palmer for nearly three years before the oilrig he worked on in western _Wyoming_ was sabotaged and burnt to a crisp in March last year. Young was the only witness, but she claimed she never saw who did it, and all the workers died in the fire." He held out the file. "Also, her friend Roxanne Parker reported her missing April twenty-second. And then she turned up in the hospital with our boys in the early hours of the twenty-eighth."

Victor took the file from Reidy and stared at the picture of Danielle Young. "I think we've finally found a connection we can work with," he said aloud. "We need to meet with Danielle's family, friends, anyone who might've met the Winchesters through her. I bet she was just as big a psychopath as the brothers are, that's probably how they met."

Reidy nodded. "I'll pull everything I can find." He rose and left, leaving Victor with the still-playing security footage. Victor stared at Dean's face and smiled.

"I finally got you," he said softly. "You're not getting away from me again."

* * *

><p>It didn't come as a surprise to Sam that one of the demons possessed Isaac's corpse to draw Tamara outside and break the salt lines. It also didn't surprise him that it worked, too. Hell, he wasn't at all surprised to find that he was facing three demons rather than one or two.<p>

"Figures you'd gang up on me," he sighed.

"Of course," said the demon in front, smoothing down the front of his suit and shooting Sam a broad grin. "Who doesn't want a chance at Sam Winchester, the prodigy, the Boy King…"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"I can't say you're living up to my expectations, though," the demon added. "Not that I'd follow a piss-poor human like you. I've got my pride after all." Pride's grin widened and he started to step forward before he looked up and spotted the Devil's Trap on the ceiling. He gave Sam a pitying look and broke the plaster with a wave of his hand, making the trap null and void. "It's a good thing Azazel's dead," he told Sam as he advanced. "Now I don't have to follow the freak he created."

Sam stepped back and lifted a hand, forcing Pride and the other two demons away from him. Pride chuckled. "Maybe there _was_ something to all the hype," he said. "I'll handle this," he tossed over his shoulder to the other two demons. Sam seized the moment and forced a canister of rock salt open, quickly directing it to pour a line between Pride and the other two demons, trapping him in with Sam. Pride turned back to Sam and raised his eyebrows.

"Demons never play fair," Sam stated with a shrug. "I was just making sure they listened."

Pride chuckled and threw out a hand, forcing Sam back a few feet before he could retaliate. From then on, it got worse.

Sam figured he was lucky to get in a few real hits, leaving Pride with a black eye and badly split lip, but then the demon managed to trip him up and he landed hard on his back. Pride was on him in an instant, hands grasping his neck and squeezing, and Sam had a moment to wonder what it was about various supernatural creatures and his neck before he was fighting back.

That was when something bizarre happened.

It had been nearly a year since Sam had last known the sulfuric taste of demon's blood or been tempted by it. He had no reason to think that any demon that had managed to escape from the Devil's Gate in Wyoming would know about what Azazel had done to him or any of the other, now-dead, special children. This, of course, meant it was a complete accident when Pride's badly split lip released a single drop of blood right into Sam's mouth.

If he hadn't been running adrenaline through his system before, this did the trick. Sam panicked at the desire that ran through him at that single, small taste and pried the demon's hands off his throat before bucking hard and sending him crashing to the ground. Sam gasped for breath, turning on his side and spitting to get the taste _out_.

"What was that?" Pride groused as Sam forced himself to sit up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and coughing hard. Sam didn't say anything. "I mean, it was just my blood," the demon continued, staring at Sam with genuine bewilderment, "it's not like — " He broke off, black eyes going wide.

"What?" Sam snapped, hating how hoarse and weak his voice sounded.

"It can't be," Pride whispered. "He didn't…"

Just then, there was a commotion in the form of a tiny redheaded girl. "You," gasped the female demon Sam hadn't bothered to identify, and Sam sensed anger, confusion and even some fear from the brunette.

The short girl undid a clasp at her thigh and pulled free a knife with a wooden handle and engravings Sam couldn't make out in the dim lighting. "Me," the redhead smirked, flying forward and stabbing the knife through the underside of the brown-haired demon's mouth. Sam had no idea what the redhead was hoping to accomplish, but then the other female stiffened, sparking out from the inside just like that vampire and Azazel, and when the knife was ripped free, she dropped to the ground.

She was dead.

Sam quickly willed his salt line to scatter as the redhead swung at the other demon. He barely managed to dodge her knife and aimed a punch of his own, but she ducked, curly hair flying as she spun around, coming back upright behind the demon and stabbing him hard in the back.

Pride growled and ran forward as the other demon collapsed, just as dead as the female. He managed to get in a hard punch, sending the redhead stumbling, and Sam reacted without thinking, raising a hand and pulling Pride far enough back that the redhead managed to get her bearings. Pride snarled at Sam and shot a hand out, catching him off-guard and sending him into the nearest wall, but the distraction proved to be enough. Sam dropped to his hands and knees, watching as the girl ran forward, punching Pride in the stomach and ramming the knife up into his chest as he doubled over. Seconds later, he was also on the ground, and just as dead.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, stumbling to his feet.

"I'm the girl who just saved your ass," said the redhead, brown eyes twinkling with mischief as she quickly wiped her blade off on Pride's suit jacket before sliding it back into her thigh holster with the practiced ease of a professional.

"I was doing fine on my own," Sam pointed out, rubbing at his sore throat and knowing there were gonna be bruises in the morning. "And I helped save your ass, too, I hope you noticed that."

"Of course," said the girl, tone just condescending enough to make Sam scowl. She grinned. "I'll see you around, Sam."

"Wait!" Sam moved forward as the girl left the room and strode down the hall, but when he stepped into the hallway himself, she was gone. "I didn't even check if you were a demon," he said aloud, feeling a tad put-out.

He stood there, shoulders slumped for a few seconds before he heard footsteps.

"Sam!" Bobby came running up the stairs. "You okay, son?"

Sam nodded absently. "Some girl came in and killed all three with a knife."

Bobby frowned. "What?"

"A demon-killing blade," Sam stated, "and some redhead the size of a twig used it to kill the three demons that came after me. Not that I needed her help," he added as Dean stepped into the hallway from the other side of the floor.

"Wait, some chick with a cool knife saved your ass?" Dean said with raised eyebrows.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I said I was doing just fine on my own," he protested as Dean chuckled and guided the other girl who had been possessed out into the hallway. "She okay?"

Dean nodded. "Bobby?"

"My guy's fine, too," Bobby said. "We're gonna have to salt n' burn those bodies, though."

"We'll take care of it," Dean said. "You can get our two survivors back into town, yeah?"

Bobby nodded and led the girl back down the stairs. There was a moment of silence.

"So that girl," Dean finally said, and Sam looked over at him. "Did you get her number?"

* * *

><p>Gordon Walker sighed and leaned against the counter. "Just tell me what I want to know," he said, "and I promise you'll never have to see me again. I really don't find any pleasure in hurting an innocent like yourself. I mean, it wasn't your fault your son was a freak of nature —"<p>

"Don't you say a _word_ about my son!" Gordon's captive snapped angrily. "You don't know the first thing about him!"

Gordon considered. "Fair enough," he said, "but I doubt he'd expect you to keep holding out like this when he's been dead for about nine months." He raised his machete and lightly ran the edge along the palm of his hand, removing small droplets of blood as he did so. "All I need is her name and location, and then I'm gone."

There was a long moment of silence before the captive man finally slumped in his chair. "Wilson," he whispered. "Ava Wilson from Peoria, Illinois."

Gordon couldn't stop his smile. "Thank you," he said, moving forward and knocking poor old Mr. Carey unconscious. "I'm sure Scott appreciates your cooperation."

He cut the bonds tying Mr. Carey to his own chair before doing a quick clean-up and slinking out of the back door. Two blocks away, Kubrick was waiting for him.

"Got a name?"

Gordon grinned. "We're headin' to Illinois, my friend. One step closer to finding Sam Winchester."

Kubrick grinned back and stepped on the gas.

* * *

><p>"… so Casey's staring at me with this daring expression on her face," Jo told Dean as they sat down to dinner at Bobby's house two days later, "and all I can think is that I can't blow my cover or anything, so I leaned right over and kissed her."<p>

Dean couldn't help but wolf-whistle, earning him a smack on the arm from Ellen as she passed by with a pot of stew. "Sounds hot," he said.

Jo laughed. "Yeah, but when we got to her place and she took me into the basement, I realized that she was a demon, but get this." She turned to look across the table at a silent Sam. "She said she wants Sam to do that whole 'lead the army of darkness' thing."

Sam raised his eyebrows and blinked. "Oh," he said after a moment. "I didn't expect that."

"Believe me," Jo said, "it took me by surprise, too. Of course, she caused a cave-in so I couldn't escape from the basement and for some reason, I couldn't remember the beginning of that exorcism you helped me learn, so we were kinda stuck until Mom figured out that Casey was working with the priest, also a demon, and she used him to get to us and exorcised them both." Jo frowned thoughtfully. "Casey said she believes that Lucifer is the ruler of Hell, even though no one's ever seen him, kinda like how so many people believe in God, y'know?"

A mildly strange expression crossed Sam's face at those words, but then Ellen demanded more eating and less talking, and Dean got sidetracked because Ellen really did make the best food he'd eaten in a long time. "Well," he finally said, "it sounds like you two had one helluva Hunt out there."

"That we did," Ellen said. "Where you boys off to, next?"

"We're goin' to Cicero, Indiana," Dean said quickly. "Guy fell on his own power saw."

Sam frowned. "That's it?"

Dean nodded. "Yep."

"Liar."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, so there's more in Cicero than just a potential case."

"And that is?" Ellen asked.

"Lisa Braeden."

Sam frowned even more before recognition lit up his face. "You don't mean the Lisa Braeden who gave you the best —"

"Finish that sentence and I'll kick your ass," Dean cut him off calmly, remembering an old laundromat in the middle of nowhere where Sam first started practicing his Jedi Mind tricks with him as his primary target. Jo snorted.

"Getting all nostalgic in your old age?"

"I'm only twenty-eight," Dean said defensively before grinning and continuing, "but I would say it's my dying wish."

"How many of those do you plan on making?" Bobby asked. "You're already eating double-cheeseburgers for breakfast."

"Don't forget the Doublemint Twins last week," Sam spoke up. "I spent all night in the car, didn't get any sleep."

"And I appreciate the sacrifice," Dean said genially. Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips actually tilting into the smallest semblance of a smile for the first time in weeks, and Dean couldn't help but consider it a win.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	3. Three: The Value of Trust

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Three: The Value of Trust**

**It's certainly difficult to write when you only get three days off a week, and one of those days is devoted to teaching six-year-old children about Jesus. *eye roll* Anyway, it is finally time for chapter three! Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>"I don't know the end game any more than you do, Sam. All I know is that I wasn't the first demon pulled from the Pit to guide you, and I'm sure I won't be the last, either." <em>

— _Rachel Nave, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>Roxy Parker's fingers gently pressed down on the keys of her piano, eyes closed as she played Chopin's "Raindrop". Chopin had been one of Danielle's favorite composers, and this particular piece reminded Roxy of spring days spent out in the rain, watching as Danielle spun in happy circles, face tilted upwards as droplets of water danced over her skin, bringing a joyful smile to her entire countenance. The sight had always been breathtaking, particularly to Jared, who had confided as much to Roxy a few days before he finally asked Danielle for her hand in marriage in his own dorky, but lovable way. Roxy had never seen her best friend so in love. Playing this piece helped her to feel closer to the friend she had known before everything had gone wrong.<p>

The door to the small, one-story house opened as Roxy finished playing the song, and she opened her eyes to see her girlfriend Taryn stepping inside, dropping her purse on the nearest surface as she shut the door. When she turned to face Roxy, she was surprised to see the other girl in tears. "Taryn?" she asked, sliding off the piano bench and making her way over to her girlfriend as quickly as she could manage. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? What's happened?"

Taryn sniffed and threw her arms around Roxy the moment she was close enough, burying her face against Roxy's shoulder. "My aunt just called," the redhead said, voice muffled. "Alexia's missing."

Roxy's blood ran cold. She was aware that an army of demons had been unleashed the night Danielle died, and she knew that each of those demons were going to need bodies to possess. "I thought your cousin was in London," she said before she could stop herself.

"She was," Taryn said, lifting her head enough that Roxy could see her pale, freckled face as it twisted in misery. "She was supposed to arrive at the Salt Lake airport earlier tonight, but she didn't check-out at her hotel or check-in at Heathrow Airport. She's just… gone, vanished." She pulled away abruptly and swiped at the tears on her face. "How does someone vanish into thin air like that?" she asked. "First Dani, now my cousin…"

"I'm sure they're not related," Roxy said quickly. "Do the authorities over there have any idea what happened?"

Taryn shook her head, curly hair bouncing with the movement. "The hotel staff said she had been seen eating breakfast every morning, and she scheduled lots of activities that she attended without issue…" She trailed off and sniffed, wiping at her brown eyes.

"I'm sure they'll find her," Roxy said as reassuringly as possible. Taryn gave her a watery smile before pulling her in and kissing her almost desperately.

"Don't leave me," Taryn whispered between kisses. "Please don't ever leave me like that. _Please_, Roxy."

Roxy squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled Taryn close once again. "Never," she whispered back, "I swear it."

* * *

><p>Dean didn't want to drag Sam around meeting his old flame from nearly nine years ago, so he was unceremoniously dropped off at the first motel Dean spotted in Cicero. Sam scowled slightly as Dean drove off before heading inside the main office and checking into a room. He hadn't had lunch yet, so once his duffel was dropped on his bed, he was off, walking to the first diner with wireless internet and setting himself up with a chicken sandwich and fries before settling in and actually doing some research on the guy who had fallen onto his own power saw. He would later blame his research as the distraction that allowed the demon to get close to him.<p>

And of course, 'close' meant the other side of his booth in the corner. Sam started and looked up. "You," he said.

It was the redhead with the demon-killing blade. And she was a demon. "Get out of here," Sam said lowly.

"Relax, Sam," the redhead said, snagging a small plate from the next booth over and smothering it in ketchup. "I'm not here to fight or anything." She nicked one of Sam's fries and slathered it in the ketchup before chomping it down.

"Right," Sam said, "because demons not only kill each other, but they sit down and talk to humans without some sort of hidden agenda."

The redhead rolled her eyes and snatched up more fries. "These are so fuckin' delicious," she told Sam. "It's like…" she frowned thoughtfully before saying, "deep-fried crack."

Sam frowned, still tense. "What are you doing here?"

The girl smiled slightly as she chewed down more fries. "My name is Ruby," she finally said, leaning back in her seat, "and I'm here to help."

Sam narrowed his eyes and reached out with his empathy, not altogether surprised that she was a little hard to read. Most demons were unless they were expressing large emotions like anger, which this girl — Ruby — currently wasn't. Still, it didn't seem like she was lying to him, although it was likely she wasn't telling him everything, either. No demon was ever completely honest unless the truth hurt more than any lie could ever do.

"I don't want your help," Sam finally said. "I want you to stop eating all my fries and leave."

"Not happening," Ruby said, eyeing him speculatively. "Did you know that Azazel tracked down and killed everyone he could find on your mom's side of the family?"

Sam froze. "What?"

Ruby nodded, still eating Sam's fries. "Anyone who didn't die on a Hunt got tracked down in later years. I think you might have a few second or third cousins twice removed out there, but the closest ones? He killed them all."

Sam had known that Mary was the daughter of a Hunter, but it never occurred to him that it was really a family business. "Why would he do that?"

Ruby frowned. "I don't know, yet," she said, "but with that yellow-eyed bastard dead, anyone who might have the answers has probably gone to ground. Azazel wasn't popular downstairs, but he was powerful enough that you listened to him, anyway. Without him, his followers are likely to be hunted down and sent back into the Pit."

"Why?"

Ruby smiled. "Most demons don't like to follow plans or be bossed around, and like I said, Azazel was powerful, but unpopular. I've been trying to find his people, but they're not proving easy to track."

"So you just _happen_ to know who his followers were?" Sam asked dubiously.

Ruby leaned forward. "I know about Rachel Nave," she said, "and Mr. Bensman and Doug… even Brady Miller."

Sam's jaw clenched, hating the reminder that Azazel had put together a little gang of demons to 'guide' him, make sure he was on the right path for the demon's purposes, whatever those really were.

"But they've all vanished," Ruby continued blithely, "including Tara and Derrick."

Sam swallowed and snapped his laptop shut.

"I don't want your help," he repeated after a moment, slipping his laptop into its carrying case and pulling out a twenty to slap on the table, "and I don't need it either."

Ruby smiled once more. "I can help Dean out of his Deal," she said.

"No you can't," Sam said flatly. "The only way out is if I die before his year is up." He started to slide from the booth to leave —

"Or if you kill the demon who holds his contract," Ruby said, voice entirely too light. Sam paused and turned back to take in the neutral expression on the redhead's face.

"The Colt doesn't have any more bullets," he told her, "and I doubt you'd be willing to lend me that knife of yours. Besides, I don't even know who holds it."

"I'm sure you can find that out," Ruby said with a secretive smile before snagging the last of Sam's fries and cramming them in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before sliding from the booth. "By the way, there's a Hunt in this town." And with that, she strode from the diner, Sam staring after her in confusion. Since when did a demon actually want to _help?_ He dropped his twenty on the table, grabbed his bag and left as well, pulling out his phone to call Dean.

* * *

><p>Cicero, Indiana turned into a much more complicated affair than Dean had ever anticipated.<p>

First of all, there was an actual job to take care of.

Next, Lisa Braeden the yoga instructor was now a single mom.

Lastly, her son? He had just turned eight years old.

"I might actually be a father," he said to Sam that evening as his brother sat at his laptop in the diner nearest their motel.

"You wouldn't be bad at it if you were," Sam said, head bent as he researched. "You said that there were four other accidents besides the power saw guy?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "and they were all in Lisa's neighborhood."

Sam nodded. "I'll go around in the morning," he said, "make some house calls, see if we can't find a pattern that connects them all."

There was a moment of silence.

"You really think I'd make a good father?" Dean suddenly found himself asking. Sam looked up and gave him brief smile.

"You pretty much raised me, and I turned out okay," he said.

Dean didn't quite know what to say to that, and there was silence between them for several moments.

"The redhead with the demon-killing knife showed up today," Sam suddenly said, closing his laptop and picking up his turkey sandwich.

"She stalking you, now?" Dean asked with a frown.

"Yeah," Sam said with a slight chuckle that sounded off. Then he sobered and said, "Dean, she's a demon."

Dean blinked as he took the words in. "You sent her straight back to Hell right?"

Sam shook his head. "She's… different."

Dean stared at his little brother. "You mind explaining that one to me? Cause I'm not following you on the idea of a demon being _different_ or whatever."

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs from his face. " What I mean is she's not interested in killing either of us, and she knows way more than any other demon we've run into for awhile, and she… She said if we can find the demon who holds your contract and kill it, then you don't have to go to Hell."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "And you believed her?"

Sam looked away. "Look," he said, "demons are harder to read than humans, but Ruby… I didn't get the feeling that she was lying. I mean, she certainly wasn't tell me everything that she knew, but then we've yet to meet a demon who lays all their cards on the table without being forced."

"So now you're on a first-name basis with a demon who just so happens to claim that she's on our side?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "Don't be an idiot, Sam, chances are she's just playing you so she can get close and find a way to throw us to the wolves."

"I didn't get that from her," Sam snapped, "or are we suddenly distrusting the empathy?"

"You said yourself that demons are harder to read than humans," Dean pointed out. "There's no way we're trusting a demon, you hear me? Now, forget about this Ruby chick and focus on the here and now, on the job."

Sam's eyes narrowed slightly and his lips thinned, but he nodded and returned to eating his food. There was little said between the two brothers for the next hour, and when Sam returned to the motel, all Dean could think about was locating the nearest bar.

* * *

><p>Sam had just finished off his last interview when he caught sight of the neighborhood park. Dean was there, sitting on a bench with a small child he figured must be Ben.<p>

Not for the first time, Sam felt a smile cross his face was he watched Dean talk with the young boy from afar. Whatever was going on, it seemed Ben really liked Dean and wanted to listen to him. Children usually took to Dean quite easily, wanting to look up to him, to never let him down. Sam certainly understood the desire; after all, Dean was _his_ big brother. He just wished Dean would remember that and not try to constantly put himself in harm's way rather than be cautious and try to last out the entire year before he had to go to Hell. As strange as it apparently seemed, Sam _wanted_ Dean to live, even if their lives had become so exhausting and horrible.

As he watched Dean interact with Ben, he suddenly sensed a demon's presence. Moments later, he realized it was just Ruby, and he remained silent, but tense as she stepped up to his side.

"You don't trust me," she stated after a long moment had passed.

"Neither of us do," Sam replied, watching as Ben approached a group of boys who were clearly a few years older than him and were absorbed with something that one of the boys was doing. Ben felt uncertain about whatever he was about to do, but determined nonetheless. "Demons and Hunters don't have the same goals in mind."

"I do," Ruby said softly.

"Demons also don't know as much as you do about me and Dean without wanting to use that knowledge to end the world." Ben was talking to the boys, now. None of them seemed to care about what Ben was saying to them, but Dean was only watching the scene without any intention of interfering. Sam wondered what was going to happen next.

"I don't want the world to end," Ruby said. "I'm not Azazel, Sam. I'm not here to manipulate you into leading an army or whatever. I don't _want_ the demons to take over this planet."

Ben turned away before whirling around and punching one of the boys in his stomach. He dropped to the ground, and Ben picked up whatever it was the boy dropped before running back over to Dean. Sam didn't say anything as he watched the two exchange high-fives, just let his empathy flow and get a better reading on the small redhead beside him. "You don't feel like most demons," he finally said.

"Most demons don't have any traces of their humanity left by the time they manage to crawl out of the Pit," Ruby said in turn as a dark-haired woman Sam thought must be Lisa approached Dean and Ben, shouting something about how fighting was a bad thing to do. "I, unfortunately, still remember what it's like to be human."

Sam frowned and finally faced the short girl, trying to imagine a demon that still retained its original humanity. "When did you die?" he asked.

"Height of the Dark Ages," Ruby said. "From the Plague, if you want to be specific. Sold my soul for power as a witch."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

Ruby smiled up at him. "I want you to trust me," she said.

"I don't know how to trust a demon," Sam told her, "even if that demon feels different from all the others ones I've ever sensed."

Ruby gave him a searching look as she took a step back. "I'm here for the long run," she said. "And you _can_ trust me, Sam. I'll prove it to you."

Sam snorted but said, "All right."

Ruby turned and walked away. Sam looked back over at the park, but Lisa and Ben were gone, and Sam refused to read Dean's emotions. Instead, he turned around and started walking in the direction of the motel, forcing his mind to go over everything he'd gathered from talking to the mothers and looking at their creepy children. He had a hunch as to what they might be dealing with, but he wasn't going to confirm it without proper research first, and he wasn't going to ask for Dean's help, either. He clearly wasn't interested in being around Sam right now.

_Stop being so emo,_ he scolded himself, loosening his tie and shoving his hands in his pockets. _That's the _last_ thing Dean needs from you right now._

It didn't stop him from sighing out loud, though.

* * *

><p>"I think we're lookin' at a group of Changelings," Sam said later that night when Dean entered their motel room, dinner in hand.<p>

"Wait," Dean said with a frown, "I thought those were like, creepy baby things that replace your newborn child or something."

"Yeah, that's how the lore goes," Sam responded, taking his lemonade from Dean and taking a sip. "Thing is, it fits. All of the accidents left each mother alone with their child, and these kids?" He looked up at Dean with a slightly perturbed look on his face. "They're _really _creepy, dude. They were all standing somewhere they could see me and just… staring, y'know? And their emotions were totally flat apart from a strong sense of attachment to the mothers and some kind of… negative emotion at my being there." Sam shuddered. "I really didn't like how it felt."

"Sounds incredibly creepy," Dean admitted, pulling out his burger. "Anything else?"

"Changelings suck the energy from the mothers until they die," Sam said, looking down at his computer screen, "and I noticed this weird bite mark on the last two mothers I spoke to, back of the neck."

Dean grimaced. "Are the real children still alive?"

"They should be," Sam said. "Whoever's switching them out for the changelings is probably keeping them…" He trailed off and appeared to space out.

"Sam?" Dean asked.

"Red dirt," Sam said. "I saw this streak of red dirt at every house, and there just happens to be one house in the neighborhood that's still under construction with piles of red dirt outside."

"Do we know how to kill them?"

Sam was already standing. "Flamethrowers should do the trick," he said, reaching behind his chair and lifting a duffel bag up for Dean to see. "I already made a couple while you were gone."

Dean nodded and finished off his burger. "Let's go." He stood up and led Sam to the car. As they got inside, however, a horrible thought occurred to him. "We need to stop at Lisa's."

"Dean," Sam said uncertainly, "we'd have a better chance of making sure that she and Ben are fine if we take care of this, first."

"No," Dean said, "we're going to Lisa's now." He started up the engine and Sam fell silent beside him. When they arrived at the Braeden house, Dean barked at Sam to stay in the car and hurried to the front door. The expression on Lisa's face when she opened it was less than pleasing.

"Dean —"

"I wanted to apologize for my actions earlier," Dean cut her off quickly. "I had no right offering Ben any sort of advice the way I did, so I'm sorry and I wanted to make it up to you." He pulled out his wallet. "You and Ben can have a night off, my treat." He held out a credit card. Lisa slowly reached out to take it when Sam opened the passenger-side door of the Impala and hurried up the driveway. "Sam, I thought I _told_ you —"

"Wait, your little brother Sam?" Lisa blinked up at the giant. "You said he was… really short."

Sam sighed. "I hit my first real growth spurt a few months after you two… anyway," he said, looking at Dean, "we're too late. They already got him."

Dean froze. "You're sure?"

"Dude, I've been around like, five of them already, I know what they feel like, and it's already happened. We've got to do this now."

"What's going on?" Lisa asked. "Got who?"

Dean hesitated, unsure that Lisa would believe her son had been replaced by some kind of pod person designed to drain her life energy away.

"Mommy?"

Dean leaned to the side and caught sight of Ben. The bright, expressive eight-year-old was suddenly all but gone, the small child now standing still with an almost blank gaze in his eyes. Sam shivered next to him.

"What is it, honey?" Lisa asked the changeling.

"Make them go away," it said, voice lacking everything that identified Ben as Ben. "I don't want them here."

Sam glanced at Dean before saying, "That's not Ben."

Lisa's head whipped around. "Excuse me?" she said. "You haven't even met him before!"

Sam swallowed. "I know," he said, "but you've known him his entire life, and Dean's been talking about him a lot since yesterday." He hesitated before asking, "How often does he call you 'mommy'?"

Lisa blinked. "I…"

"He's lying, Mommy," the changeling said. "I'm your son, I've always been yours and I love you, Mommy."

"Something in this neighborhood is taking the children and replacing them with changelings," Sam said, voice soft. "They then get everyone else out of their way that isn't the child's mother and then they suck the life out of them."

"You're crazy," Lisa breathed, and Dean knew that Sam wouldn't use his Jedi mind powers on her. He couldn't help but feel grateful to his brother for it. "Get away from here, I never want to see either of you again."

"Lisa," Dean began, but Sam's attention was focused on the changeling.

"Show us what you are," he said simply. Lisa looked back at Ben, mouth opening to, Dean presumed, tell him and Sam to go away once again when the changeling's face shifted into something grotesque, eye sockets large and empty with a mouth not unlike some kind of evil worm-thing. Dean imagined that Sam might now exactly what he was talking about. Then Lisa screamed and stumbled backwards into Dean's arms. "We know where Ben and the others are," Sam said quietly, "and we're going to free them and stop whatever's been setting all this up. Trust us, please."

Lisa nodded and the changeling snarled, grotesque face becoming even more frightening as the thing started to run forward. "Sam," Dean barked.

Sam raised a hand and used his telekinesis to force the changeling into the nearest closet, following that up with moving a heavy bookcase from the front room so it blocked the door. "What in the…" Lisa trailed off as Dean pulled her away from the house and towards the Impala. "How?"

"I'm kinda psychic," Sam said, looking uncomfortable. "We need to go, now."

Lisa allowed Dean to steer her into the back seat and then he slid into the driver's seat. "Psychic?" she asked faintly. Dean glanced at Sam, wondering what he was going to say now.

"It…" Sam swallowed and glanced at Dean. "It's a long story."

* * *

><p>Lisa scrambled through the broken frame and into the window well, lifting a small girl from there up to the ground above before climbing up herself, Ben's leather jacket in hand. "Let's go," she told the small group of six children.<p>

"What about Dean?" Ben asked.

"Dean has his brother with him," Lisa said quickly, "they can handles themselves. C'mon."

She herded the group away from the incomplete house and was trying to decide whether to walk every child home herself when she heard the unmistakable sound of roaring flames and screeching. One of the girls whimpered and pressed herself closer to Lisa's side. "It's okay," Lisa said as reassuringly as possible while trying to calm her own racing heart.

After a few seconds, the shrieking finally ceased, and a few seconds after that, Dean emerged from the house, limping slightly and carrying his duffel bag. Sam stepped out behind him, his arm wrapped tightly around his middle.

"Did you kill that thing?" Ben asked loudly as the two brothers approached. Dean appeared to try and suppress his grin before he nodded. "What was it?"

"A changeling," Dean answered. "It kidnapped you kids and replaced you with look-a-likes designed to —" He broke off at Lisa's glare. "Well, suffice it to say, we just saved all your mothers in addition to each of you."

There was a moment of silence as the children took that in. "Can we go home now?" asked one of the boys.

Dean nodded with a warm smile. "Yeah, I'll drive y'all home, all right?" He led the group over to his car.

"That's a sweet ride," Ben said, and Dean grinned.

"Are you okay?" Lisa asked Sam as they loaded all the children into the backseat. Sam nodded.

"Pretty sure I'm just bruised," he said.

"You should get some ice," Lisa told him.

"I will," Sam said, "after we take care of the rest of you."

Lisa frowned, but let Sam's injuries slide for the moment.

Once all the children were returned to their grateful mothers, Dean pulled up in front of Lisa's house. "So, that bookcase…" Lisa said.

"I'll move it back," Sam said, grimacing as he hefted himself out of the car.

"Dude, you should probably wrap your ribs to be safe," Dean said.

"I have some ACE bandages you can use," Lisa offered as she and Ben slid out of the backseat. Sam looked like he might object, but then his expression slid into a faint, yet grateful smile and he nodded. Lisa let the four of them into the house before standing back to let Sam do his weird 'psychic' thing.

The bookcase wobbled a little as it slowly moved back to its original position, and Sam's face was screwed up in concentration, the hand not wrapped around his middle raised in the air like it was guiding the bookcase. Although, Lisa had to admit that that was most likely what he was really doing. "How'd you do that?" Ben asked, eyes wide in amazement.

"Sam's my awesomely skilled little brother," Dean said, sounding a little proud. Sam snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You're really tall," Ben told Sam.

"Ben," Lisa started to admonish, but Sam just laughed.

"I know," he said. "Dean still doesn't like it." This time it was Dean who snorted.

"Ben," Lisa said, "why don't you help Sam sit down and get his jacket off while Dean helps me find those ACE bandages and some ice?" Ben nodded and led Sam into the front room, asking him what it was like having Dean for an older brother.

Lisa was more than a little startled by Sam's quiet answer. "He's the best big brother I could ask for."

Once in the kitchen, Lisa grabbed Dean's arm and turned him to face her. "What is it that you do?" she asked. "Really?"

"Really?" Dean sighed. "We're Hunters, Sam and I. We track down the supernatural and put a stop to it."

"The supernatural," Lisa echoed.

"Everything from ghosts to demons," Dean said.

_Demons are real?_ "How did you two end up doing something like this?"

A shadow crossed Dean's face. It seemed that he'd done well over the last nine years, looking even more handsome than before, but Lisa couldn't help but think that he also looked burdened in ways he hadn't before.

"No one ends up in our line of business without losing someone."

Lisa didn't like that statement.

"Who did you lose?"

Dean swallowed. "A demon killed our mom when I was four. Sam was still a baby. Our dad started Hunting maybe a year later and we've been out on the road ever since."

Lisa raised a hand to her mouth, horrified by what Dean had told her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Dean smiled grimly. "We finally killed the demon that did it."

Lisa wanted to ask what the price of that revenge had been, but she was scared of the answer at the same time. Instead, she asked, "So how is Sam uh… psychic?"

Dean scowled as he pulled open Lisa's freezer to get to her ice cube tray. "Also the demon," he finally said. "It's why he came to our home that night. Our mom tried to stop him." Lisa handed him a bag and he started dumping ice cubes into it. "Look, I'm sorry for everything that happened, I really didn't expect there to be a real job here or for Ben to learn what's hiding in the shadows —"

"It's okay," Lisa cut Dean off quickly. "It's a lot to take in," she admitted after a moment, "but it's okay."

Dean sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Sam was eight when I finally told him the truth," he said. "He had nightmares for weeks after and our dad was pissed." He looked at Lisa. "You say it's okay, but if Ben gets nightmares from this, well, he's not the first."

Lisa looked up at Dean for a long moment before she nodded. "Maybe you and Sam could take a few days off," she said, "spend some time…" She trailed off and looked away.

"You have a wonderful life here," Dean said quietly. "A good, normal life that Sam and I can't have. It… I'm glad that I got to see you again, but I don't belong here, and you deserve a life free of the shadows I live in."

Dean had never been so forthright with her before, and Lisa couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be the last time she'd ever see him. She wanted to ask what had happened, why he had become so burdened in the nine years since she had met him, but she got the feeling that Dean wouldn't tell her. Instead, she reached up and gave him a simple kiss before stepping back and turning to find her bandages.

When the Winchester's left a little over an hour later, she chose to take comfort in the fact that at least the brothers had each other's backs. Whatever was going on in their lives, they still trusted each other.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	4. Four: Cracks in the Foundation

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Four: Cracks in the Foundation**

**There's nothing more time-consuming than being all domestic-like and cleaning. Real life... *sigh* Anyway, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

**A little bit of dialogue in this chapter comes from 3.05 "Bedtime Stories".  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>I need you boys to watch out for each other, keep each other safe<em>_."_

— _John Winchester, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>"I got a case," Jo said, walking into Bobby's study with a folder in one hand. Dean looked up from the book Sam had handed him with interest, feeling pretty certain he hadn't taken in a single word of the text.<p>

"Demons?" he asked.

Jo shook her head. "I think it might be a werewolf," she answered. "Three brothers were attacked at a construction site in Maple Springs, New York. Two were violently ripped apart, but the last one was only injured."

"Werewolf?" Dean asked.

"The lunar cycle's right," Sam spoke up from his corner of the room, nose still buried in the same book he'd picked up right after breakfast.

"It's so weird that you already know that," Dean told his brother. Sam gave a faint grin, but said nothing in response. Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to Jo. "You headin' out with your mom?"

"No," Jo said. "I was actually hoping you two would go with me."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Ellen's not interested in a job suddenly?"

Jo pressed her lips together before smiling slightly. "Mom's already found a job," she finally said.

Sam actually looked up at that. "What's she doing, then?"

Jo bit her lip and grinned. "She's gotten a bee in her bonnet over the way Bobby runs his salvage yard, says Bobby sucks at being a business man."

The sad thing was that it was the truth. Dean could remember summers in this very house, learning about cars from both John and Bobby while Sam would sit around inside, organizing inventory lists and bills of sale.

Of course, next summer would come and Sam would have to start all over again.

Dean nodded to himself at the vague, but fond memories. "I guess we'd be willing to check this one out with you — Sam?"

Sam had closed his book, placed it on his seat and was currently striding outside with a peculiar expression on his face. Dean exchanged a confused look with Jo before they both followed him.

"What are you doing here?" Sam was saying as Dean stepped outside. He wondered if his brother might be crazy for a moment because there was no one else outside, but then a petite redhead stepped into view from behind an old 1947 Chevy pickup.

"I told you I would prove that you could trust me," the girl said to Sam.

"By coming here?" Sam asked in a skeptic tone. "You're seriously about to surround yourself with Hunters?"

The girl snorted and shrugged. "How else am I gonna prove myself, Sam?" She stepped forward. "You told me the Colt has no more bullets, which means you've gotta rebuild it from scratch, figure out how it works." She raised her empty hands slightly. "I can help."

"Wait," Dean finally spoke up, making his way down the porch steps and over to Sam's side. "You're Ruby?"

The girl nodded. "Nice to finally meet you, Dean."

"Right," Dean said. "Sam, why haven't you sent her back to Hell already?"

"Because Sam knows an unfortunate truth," Ruby said. "Not all demons are the same, and they don't all want the same things." She turned back to Sam. "I can help make the gun work again."

Sam looked indecisive.

"Oh, c'mon," Dean said loudly, "you can't _seriously_ be thinking of indulging a demon!"

"And what if I am?" Sam asked, looked at Dean with a slightly pinched expression. "She says she can do it, and we both know Bobby hasn't made any headway on fixing the Colt over the last two weeks. We have _no idea_ where to begin."

"And you do?" Dean asked Ruby snidely.

"Yes, I do," Ruby said simply. "I will work with you to fix the gun, and I'll even provide test subjects for you to try it out on."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What," he said, "you're too scared to damage that body you stole?"

Ruby's brown eyes narrowed. "And what if I am?" she asked. "Can't demons care about the bodies they use?"

"Who is she?" Jo asked, stepping up beside Dean. "The girl you're possessing."

"If none of you know her, then obviously someone unimportant," Ruby said, "but I'd rather leave her unmarred if I can help it."

"Okay, but we still don't want your help," Dean said.

"Dean, maybe we should talk about this —" Sam started.

"We're not trusting a fucking demon, Sam!" Dean shouted, temper snapping at last.

"Dean —"

"This really isn't up for discussion," Dean cut Sam off, unsurprised by the truly angry expression on his brother's face.

"And why's that?" Sam asked.

"Because I said so!" Dean snapped. Sam stared at him for a long moment before taking a step baclwards and shaking his head slightly.

"You're not Dad," he finally said before turning and walking away.

"Sam —!" Dean huffed, scowled at Ruby, and then followed his brother, Jo right behind him.

Sam headed straight for Bobby's garage, where he was working on a 1966 Mustang. "Hey, Bobby!" he called as he approached, and Dean watched Bobby put down his wrench and step away from the hood.

"Sam, what's up?" he asked, and Dean suddenly realized what he was going to do.

"Oh, no, Sam —"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam snapped. "Bobby, I found someone who can help fix the Colt."

"Really?" Bobby seemed surprised. "Who?"

"Ruby."

There was a moment of silence before Bobby's eyes went wide. "That demon you boys told me about? No way, I am _not_ working with a demon."

"Then I'll stay here and monitor her," Sam said. "She's already offered her help, and the sooner we can get the gun working again, the less vulnerable we'll be. We can't keep relying on my powers and memorized exorcisms."

Bobby's mouth twisted into a grimace.

"What about that job I found?" Jo spoke up.

"I'll still go with you," Dean finally said. "Sam can stay here with Bobby and your mom and keep a close eye on that demon." He stared hard at Sam. "I don't like this," he told him."

"I know," Sam said. He looked over at Bobby, who held his hands up in surrender and turned away.

"All right," he said, "but I'm trusting you to be responsible for that demon every last second she's here, you got that?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said, looking at him for a moment before returning his gaze to Dean. "You two be careful out there."

Dean nodded tightly. Less than an hour later, the Impala roared off the premises for New York.

* * *

><p>Gordon eyed the man he had tied up. "She was missing for nearly five months and then suddenly turned up dead?"<p>

Brady Walker nodded, tongue darting out to feel at his split lip. "Autopsy said she'd been stabbed with some kind of old iron poker or something, and hard, too." His gaze dropped to the floor. "I have no idea where she was or what happened, but she… Ava came back without the ring I gave her."

Gordon didn't much care about that last part, so he moved on. "What about the Winchesters?"

"They came after she first vanished," Brady answered, voice taking on a hard edge Gordon hadn't yet heard. "They searched, but they couldn't figure out where the demons had taken her, and then they said that others were going missing, three or four at a time every couple of weeks. I didn't understand how that many people could just vanish, you know?"

"Others?" Gordon prompted. He had known that Sam, Ava Wilson and Scott Carey weren't the only freaks out there, but the idea that Sam and Dean had known who they all were was a little too interesting to just dismiss.

"They're all dead," Brady said shortly. "Big news item, too, just three days after Ava was dropped off in the backyard. All the deaths varied, and some had clearly been decomposing for almost as long as Ava had been missing, but they were all the same age. Twenty-three years old, and they were all born in May and June."

Gordon had never had such specific knowledge about the special children. He nodded slightly and looked across the kitchen to where Finn Carlton was sitting with Brady's laptop. "We need that list," he said, and Finn nodded, bald head shining slightly in the incandescent lighting. "Now then, Brady, I need you to tell me everything you know about the Winchesters."

* * *

><p>Roxy pulled her Honda Civic to a stop in front of the Young's house. "Here we are," she said to Sarah. Danielle's older sister smiled a little and nodded.<p>

"Thanks for helping me," she said softly as they both slid out of the car and Roxy popped the trunk.

"It was no problem, Sarah," Roxy said, grabbing a cardboard box and pulling it free. "It was the least I could do."

Sarah nodded and pulled out the other box from the trunk, setting it on the ground before slamming the trunk closed. The boxes contained the last of Danielle's things from when she, Roxy and Taryn had rented a house together. Roxy and Taryn were still there, of course, although the place seemed less cheerful somehow without Danielle. The worst parts, for Roxy, were that Taryn still didn't know anything about what had really happened, and that Danielle's family didn't know the entire story beyond the fact that demons had been involved. But then, how could she tell any of them that Danielle had followed orders given by the demon that fed her its blood as a baby and proceeded to open a doorway to Hell itself?

Roxy reflected, and not for the first time, that her friend had become someone she didn't really know by the end of her life. Why had she thought that killing Sam would save him? Why had she opened a Devil's Gate? And why all the talk about destiny when she had once been a firm supporter of Team Free Will? There were just too many questions and no real way to find the answers, except…

There was still Danielle's letter. _Please don't lose contact with my family, and please stay in contact with the Winchesters, no matter where you go or what you do. I promise you'll understand why someday. _Roxy wasn't entirely certain what to think of her dead best friend, but she was at least willing to believe that there was more going on than anyone had known, and that the answers would come to light one day. Roxy just had to be patient until then. She forced herself to focus as she started to follow Sarah over to the driveway when she heard a car come around the corner and halt at the base of the driveway.

"What the…" Roxy trailed off as two men stepped from the black SUV. One was black and bald, though with a neatly trimmed beard of sorts, and the other was white and mostly forgettable. "Can we help you?" she asked, suddenly feeling tense and defensive.

"Is this the Young residence?" asked the black man. Roxy raised one dark eyebrow and frowned.

"It depends," she said. "Who are you?"

The black man pulled out a wallet-looking thing and flipped it open. "Special Agent Henricksen, FBI," he said. "This is my partner, Special Agent Reidy."

"The FBI," Roxy said, nonplussed. "What brings two agents to Happy Valley of all places?"

The two agents blinked and exchanged looks. "We're here to inquire about the death of Danielle Young," Henricksen finally said.

"Roxy —" Sarah started.

"Sarah, go inside," Roxy cut her off. "Get your parents. I'll take care of this until they get out here." She set down her box and glared at the two agents for a long moment, forcing herself to keep her hands at her sides.

"Roxy?" Reidy said.

"It's Roxanne Parker," Roxy said sharply. "I was Danielle's best friend growing up and housemate for the last five months of her life." She placed her hands on her hips and eyed the two agents coolly. She didn't know what was going on, but something told her she wasn't going to like any of it.

"You wouldn't happen to be the Roxanne Parker that reported Young missing five days before she turned up dead in a Wyoming hospital?" asked Henricksen.

"I am," Roxy said.

"You mind tellin' me how your best friend went from 'missing' to 'shot by men who attacked her campsite'?" Henricksen asked.

"Excuse me?" Roxy said.

"The two men who brought her body in," said Henricksen with a slight frown. "They said the three of them were on a camping trip when they were attacked, and Young was shot."

"Oh," Roxy said, blinking a couple times. "It was easier to say that than 'we acted outside the law to save our kidnapped friend who was, unfortunately, shot during the rescue attempt'. It's such a mouthful, y'know?"

Henricksen got a look on his face that said he wasn't amused. "So you know the two men, then."

"Tell me their names and I'll give you an answer."

The two agents exchanged looks. "Sam and Dean Winchester," Reidy finally said, sounding slightly put-out.

Roxy nodded slowly and put on a thoughtful face. "Yeah," she said after a moment, "I know them. Good guys, very strong and manly and noble and stuff."

Henricksen raised his eyebrows. "Noble," he echoed.

"Yeah," Roxy said as front door opened again. She turned to see Harry hurrying out, Lydia just behind him. "The brothers really are all that and _so_ much more."

"Roxy, that's enough," Harry said, giving the two FBI agents a hard stare. "I'm sorry, but any further questions will have to go through our lawyer."

"You're protecting yourselves already?" Henricksen asked skeptically. "It sounds like you all got somethin' to hide."

"You need to leave now," was the only thing Harry said, tugging on Roxy's shoulder. "You're not welcome on my property."

Roxy retrieved her box of Danielle's things and followed her parents into their home. The moment the door shut, Harry rounded on Roxy. "What did you say to them?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing incriminating, I swear," Roxy said quickly. "Just that we knew Sam and Dean, and that they tried to save Dani when she got shot."

Roxy watched as Harry scrubbed hard at his face. "We have to assume they weren't as careful at that hospital in Wyoming as they should've been," he said after a moment. "They _swore_ they dropped off the radar after Little Rock."

"When Sam got arrested and thrown in jail," Roxy said in clarification, and Lydia nodded. "How much do you think those agents know?"

"I don't know," Harry sighed, "and really, we just can't be sure. I'm gonna call my friend in the morning, get him to represent all of us." He looked back at Roxy. "I think it's about time that Taryn knew the truth."

"No," Roxy said at once, "I can't do that to her. She's already stressed over the fact that her cousin's gone missing —"

"When did she go missing?" asked Lydia.

"Sometime in the last week while she was still out in London," Roxy answered. "I don't think it was a demon or anything, but Taryn's aunt and uncle aren't being told anything by the authorities over there, so it kinda has me on edge, too." She ran a hand through her short, spiky hair. "It's just — it took me _three days_ to believe Danielle when she dumped the truth on me, and I didn't have any demon exorcisms to witness or ghosts to salt and burn or any of that. I've taken all of this on faith, and you both know I'm not really the type to do that, but Taryn… She won't believe without proof."

Harry nodded after a moment. "Okay," he said, "then you're going to have to do anything and everything you can to keep her out of this."

"What are we going to tell Vince?" Lydia asked. "If he's going to represent us, then lying —"

"Don't worry," Harry cut her off, "I'll talk to him, make things work. It'll be fine."

When Roxy left the house a few minutes later, she could only hope that Harry was right.

* * *

><p>Ruby was the calmest, most human demon Bobby had ever met, and it was completely unnerving. Even more unnerving was the relaxed posture Sam had around her. He knew that Sam could sense her emotions, but it was very strange to him that her emotions didn't have Sam on edge.<p>

Even stranger was the way Bobby could almost forget at times that she had been in Hell since the Dark Ages.

"Why wouldn't this work?" Bobby asked, feeling a little agitated as he held up a book in his hands. "It clearly says —"

"I know what it says," Ruby cut him off with a helpless shrug, "but look at this book. We have to assume that Colt was following guidelines similar to this based on the gun's design."

Things were pretty much always like that. Sam, for some reason Bobby couldn't quite figure out, didn't contribute much to their research and development of the Colt, seemingly content to just sit back and observe them, instead. It was almost as unnerving as Ruby's presence, alone.

"She's got the most human emotions I've ever sensed from a demon," Sam finally said when Bobby asked him about it. "It's really strange to observe, but it's… almost calming, too. I'm not really sure how else to explain it."

"Oookay," Bobby said, not really understanding and pretty certain he didn't really want to.

"He said that?" Dean asked that night on the phone. "I just don't even know what to make of him half the time these days. He's just been different since…"

_Since Cold Oak._

Ellen didn't have much of an opinion about the entire situation. "Just so long as she doesn't turn around and slit our throats in our sleep," she said with a shrug.

"If Sam would actually sleep then maybe I'd worry more about that happening," Bobby sighed.

"He's not sleeping again?" Ellen asked more sharply before sighing and shaking her head. "That boy…" She had marched off after that and not only lectured Sam about getting proper rest whether or not Ruby was there, but also pulled in Bobby and told _him_ off for encouraging him.

"I didn't _encourage _him," Bobby tried to explain, but the tough woman refused to hear a word of his. After that, Sam slept at night, and Bobby lined his bedroom with salt and drew a Devil's Trap in his doorway. Just to be safe, of course.

The weirdest thing about working with Ruby were the 'test subjects' she brought for Bobby to test the Colt on. The first one, she claimed, was a low-level demon. After three failed attempts to kill the demon, she stabbed it with her knife and said she'd keep looking after some more work on the bullets for the gun.

"Why are you so worried about damaging that meatsuit of yours?" Bobby asked her.

Ruby's expression gave nothing away. "I think that's my own personal business, wouldn't you agree?"

Bobby really didn't, but he knew when to push and when to back off.

"I feel like I should know the girl she's possessing," Sam admitted that night, "but I've never seen her before and I'm not sure pushing for answers will get us anywhere."

Bobby didn't like it, but he understood, so the subject was dropped.

Then Ruby showed up with a demon Sam instantly recognized. For the first time since Ruby had stepped foot on Bobby's property, Sam's shoulders were tense, and Bobby wasn't sure how he should feel about it. "Ruby," Sam said, "why —?"

"I know she tortured Dean," Ruby answered. "I know what she did under Azazel's orders in LA, and I'm sure she'd be very happy to answer some questions before we try the gun out again."

Tara glared at Ruby from the Devil's Trap she'd been placed in. Bobby glanced at Sam, but his face was impassive. "I'm game," he finally said. "Anything she can tell us is better than nothing."

Of course, Tara didn't want to cooperate, frequently calling Ruby a 'traitor' and berating Sam for Azazel's 'untimely' death before she finally gave up a piece of information.

"He was releasing more than just an army," Tara panted out, dark hair hanging in her face as she glared up at Sam with black eyes. "There was a demon he needed free, a demon buried deep in the Pit, and that Devil's Gate in Wyoming was the only one close enough to let her out."

"Her?" Sam asked. "You got a name?"

But Tara refused to say another word other than, "I don't know her name, but she's gonna kill you." That day, the Colt finally worked, and Bobby watched Sam as he watched Tara finally die, face blank, but eyes hard with suppressed emotions. That night, Jo called to say that she and Dean were dealing with a coma patient who was bringing the fairy tales her father read to her to life and Ellen told her to tell Dean that the Colt finally worked and Tara was dead at last.

Ruby stuck around for dinner, finally having convinced Ellen to make fries before she pulled Sam outside for a private conversation Bobby chose to listen in on.

"I helped you fix the Colt," Ruby was saying when Bobby approached the door that hadn't been completely shut. "You can find out which demon holds Dean's contract now, maybe even kill it."

"What if it's a demon that's still in the Pit?" Sam asked quietly.

"Then I'll just have to find you a proper summoning ritual," Ruby said dismissively. "I know you don't want Dean to go to Hell, and I want you to trust me so I can help you stop it from happening."

"What if I can't stop it?" Sam asked.

"Then…" Ruby sighed. "Then I'll help you learn how to live without your brother."

"I think I can manage that," Sam said, but Ruby snorted softly.

"Sam, college was one thing," she said. "Dean was still alive and one phone call away. You know that dead is different, harder. You can't tell me that your father's Deal and subsequent death didn't affect you at all."

Sam didn't say anything, and Bobby knew he didn't have to.

"You're going to have to learn how to keep your emotions from affecting you as much as they do," Ruby said, "whether or not Dean dies next year."

Sam was quiet for several seconds. "Azazel told me he was gonna get both Dean and my dad into Hell," he finally said. "D'you know why he'd want that so badly?"

"I don't," Ruby said softly. "I'm sorry, Sam." After a moment, she added, "For what it's worth, I don't think Hell ever broke your father's spirit. Only the more powerful demons should've been able to get out of that Gate in Wyoming, but the fact that he managed…" She trailed off and Bobby couldn't help but feel proud of the Winchester patriarch.

"More powerful demons," Sam echoed, voice quiet in the fading light. "That includes you, doesn't it?"

Ruby seemed to hesitate before finally answering. "I'm more average, but I'm strong enough to step on holy ground without writhing in horrible agony. I don't… I use spells, potions, weapons, stuff like that. I don't like the powers granted to me by my status as a demon."

"That's different," Sam said, "but it suits you."

Ruby chuckled. "I should go," she said, "I know I've more than overstayed my welcome here."

"Yeah, I guess," Sam said. "Thank you."

"Yeah," Ruby replied. "See you around." Seconds later, Sam stepped inside.

"She's gone," he told Bobby, clearly uncaring that Bobby had just listened to their entire conversation. He watched the youngest Winchester as he headed upstairs to the room he normally shared with Dean.

The world was quickly changing, bringing tougher choices to rest on the shoulders of men Bobby wasn't sure were truly prepared to take on such burdens. All he could hope to do was be by their sides and support them through whatever challenges came their way.

* * *

><p>It was probably one of the dumber things Roxy had ever done, but she knew she couldn't risk the FBI finding out she was still in contact with the Winchesters. She headed into UVSC's library early one morning nearly a week after the Feds had shown up and found a guy sitting at a computer. "Hey," she said, dropping into the seat next to his, "I'll give ya twenty bucks if you let me use your student account for the next fifteen minutes."<p>

The guy stared at her. "Okay," Roxy said, "how about forty?"

The guy smiled and nodded. Roxy slapped two twenties into his hand and he left, allowing Roxy to slide into his chair.

It took about ten minutes to create a brand-new email account, and another five to put together and send Sam an email about the FBI showing up the day before. She sent it off just as the guy was walking back over, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a half-eaten doughnut in the other. "Finished?" he asked.

Roxy nodded and logged out of the email. "Thanks," she said, striding away and heading for her car so she could go to the movie theater back in Provo to start her work shift. Hopefully she could find someone with a Blackberry later in the day who would let her check her email. At this point, any advice from the brothers was better than flying blind.

* * *

><p>"Crap."<p>

Ellen looked up from the paperwork she was organizing to where Sam sat in a corner on his laptop. "Sam?" she asked.

"Huh?" Sam looked up.

"What's wrong?"

What? Oh…" Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I just got an email from Roxy Parker. She was… she was Danielle's friend, back in Utah."

Danielle Young, the girl who set an army of demons free. "Oh," Ellen replied. "What's she emailing you about?"

Sam's mouth twisted slightly. "She says the FBI showed up at Danielle's parent's house asking questions about us nearly a week ago."

"The FBI," Ellen parroted and sighed. "You think they found out something about Wyoming?"

Sam slumped in his chair slightly. "I prevented an investigation in Dani's death," he said, "but there were security cameras we couldn't avoid. Maybe something about the insurance… I don't know, but if the FBI's asking the Young's questions, then we're gonna have to be more careful."

Ellen nodded. "Why did it take so long for this Roxy to contact you?"

"She was worried about them tracking her," Sam said. "This email address was one she never gave me, so she probably created a new one on the spot before sending me this." He dragged a hand through his floppy hair. "I need to find a way to draw their attention away from them." He reached for his phone when it started ringing. He stared at the screen for a second, frowned and then pushed the 'talk' button. "Dean?"

Ellen watched as Sam's frown turned incredulous.

"Seriously? Where? Buffalo? No, I didn't know he had storage container, the man kept secrets better than the damn Secret Service!"

Ah, something regarding John Winchester. Ellen snorted to herself.

"Fly out there? I — well, yeah, you're already there. Okay, I'll book the next flight out." Sam ended the call and sighed. "I guess I'm going to New York, after all."

Three hours later, Ellen dropped Sam off at the nearest airport. "You be careful, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sam said, giving her a warm smile before he slid out of her truck and walked away, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Ellen watched him go, wondering if the confident set to his shoulders was real or set atop a foundation that was slowly cracking. Either way, would he still hold up once Dean was gone?

Truthfully, Ellen was too scared to consider the answer, even if she already knew what it was.

_No._

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<br>_


	5. Five: Hoodoo Luck

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Five: Hoodoo Luck**

**My computer works! I've been having issues for the last few months where the backlight on my laptop refuses to stay on when the screen is tilted at certain angles. After a while, it got too hard to do any typing (you try working when your laptop's basically set at a 70 degree angle or worse), but I finally got it fixed and finally finished the chapter! Yay!**

**Anyway, here we begin the tale of 3.03 "Bad Day at Black Rock". Only all twisted up, because Sam's not the one with rabbit's foot this time... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"… <em>missing persons have been turning up outside their original homes all across the US. All the age of twenty-three, and all apparently born in either May or June of 1983, each have been killed in various, gruesome ways. Some appear to have been dead for at least five months, while others range as recent as maybe a few days old. No one has any idea who could have kidnapped them, let alone killed them or returned their bodies."<em>

— _TV News Report, "Demon Game"_

* * *

><p>"I still find it incredibly bizarre that a demon would willingly rebuild the Colt and even provide target practice," Dean said as the elevator took him, Sam and Jo down to John Winchester's storage locker at Castle Storage.<p>

"Yeah," Sam said absently, still wondering at Ruby's reaction to the idea of being shot or injured in any way. It wasn't normal for a demon to care about the condition of the body they were possessing, let alone be so willing to find and sacrifice their own kind to help humans. Why did Ruby care so much about her body? Who was she possessing, anyway?

"At least the Colt works again," Jo said, and Dean nodded as the elevator came to a stop. He pulled the grill up and slowly stepped into the room, Jo and Sam behind him, and all three carrying flashlights in their hands.

"So how are we gonna deflect the FBI's attention from Utah?" Dean asked after a moment.

Sam sighed. "I was thinking of maybe planting a false trail using a couple of old aliases — hey, there's blood on the ground."

"Also, no demons allowed," Dean said, looking down at the giant Devil's Trap on the floor. "There's two sets of footprints."

"One got caught on a trip wire," Jo said, stooping down to point it out. Sam followed the wire with his eyes and found a loaded gun right about chest level. He quickly reached out with his mind and froze the trigger to make sure there were no accidents. "I'm guessing this is something pretty typical of the great John Winchester."

"Dad was paranoid, yes," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "But I really had no idea he set up a place like this."

The three of them stepped over the trip wire and slowly made their way further into the space. Sam caught sight of old weapons, filing cabinets and many shelves, along with a door leading to a back room. The chain locking it had been cut.

"Hey," Dean said brightly, "it's my first sawed-off."

"When'd you make that?" Jo asked.

"Sixth grade," Dean answered proudly. Sam turned to catch his brother's happy grin and Jo's eye roll. "Hey, Sammy…"

Sam caught sight of the next item Dean held in his hand. "Hey, that's my Division Championship soccer trophy from 1995!" He moved forward and took it from Dean's hand. "I had no idea he kept it…"

"John not the sentimental type?" Jo asked.

"Not after Mom," Dean said quietly. "At least, we never thought so."

There was a moment of silence.

"Why would anyone break in here?" Jo finally asked. "What were they looking for? I mean, the weapons are still here…"

Sam silently wandered into the back room, looking over the shelves and saw a spot clear of dust. "What are these?" Jo asked.

"Uh…" Sam stepped closer, looking at the other boxes on the shelves. "Curse boxes, built to contain cursed objects. These symbols are the binding magic, only one's missing." He reached out and ran a finger through the thick dust lining the clear space. "We need to call Bobby."

* * *

><p>"What's taking so long?"<p>

Finn looked up from his computer and met Gordon's eyes. "I put together a list of the dead bodies deposited around the country, but it occurred to me that there might be others out there who died before gettin' nabbed by demons, so I've been lookin' up others who fit the bill, y'know, maybe some o' them had contact with the Winchesters before they kicked the bucket."

Gordon frowned thoughtfully. "I can see the logic there," he said. "Find anyone interesting?"

"Two interesting people popped up," Finn answered. "First was a Max Miller, lost his mother in a nursery fire at six months old, same as Andrew Gallagher and Scott Carey, as well as Sam. He committed suicide in early March of last year after threatening his step-mom with a gun. Her statement was that she called two family friends to try and stop Miller, but he eventually shot himself in the head. Funny thing is, his dad committed suicide a few nights before this, followed by his uncle getting his head chopped off by his window a couple days later."

Gordon considered Miller's story. "All right. Who's the other interesting person?"

"Girl named Danielle Palmer," Finn said. "Well, her maiden name is Young, but she was married for nearly three years and a widow for one. Anyway, she was brought into a Wyoming hospital by two campers who said they'd been attacked, and that Palmer was shot and killed in the process. That was the same night all those demon sightings happened." He leaned back in his chair. "In fact, it was the closest hospital to where we now know a Devil's Gate is located." He met Gordon's eyes. "It seems that Sam Winchester's the only one of these psychic freaks that's still alive."

Gordon nodded. "All right, let's start looking into —"

"Actually, there's more about Palmer," Finn cut him off.

"What else?" Gordon asked with a frown.

"She was reported missing the night before Ava Wilson turned up dead," Finn said. "Also, her death has been marked by the FBI as a note of interest in the case of Dean Winchester and his little brother Sammy."

Gordon froze for a long moment before starting to smile. "The FBI wants the brothers?"

Finn nodded. "They thought Dean had died in St. Louis back at the beginning of last year after torturing and killing two people and injuring a third, even buried a body that was shot with silver bullets."

"Shape-shifter," Gordon dismissed. "How'd he come back to their attention?"

"Let's see…" Finn clicked on his laptop a few times. "He and Joanna Harvelle turned up in Baltimore last August, found at the scene of a murder before escaping. Then the brothers were spotted in Milwaukee back in January during a bank robbery that they supposedly took control of, and then Sam was arrested in Little Rock in March, but escaped from prison after two days. The hospital in Wyoming was the first sighting in nearly two months, but the interesting thing is they're aware the brothers spent about a month in Provo, Utah last November, although there was no suspicious activity. Palmer's death and the fact she's from Provo is the only link they have to connect them so far."

"Palmer was born in May of '83?"

Finn nodded. "Six days after Sam. Think she was one of the psychic freaks?"

"Had to be," Gordon said with a shrug.

"We goin' to Utah, then?"

Gordon considered. "Not just yet," he said. "If the FBI's taken an interest in her family, then we need to stay out or the way until we're sure they've moved on. The last thing I need's a manhunt accidentally finding an escaped prisoner lookin' into the same group of people they are."

Finn nodded. "So…?"

"We're gonna start with a visit to Max Miller's step-mother, see if we can't get the full story from her."

Finn nodded. "I'll get her address for ya."

Gordon nodded and smiled. "Good."

* * *

><p>"That's it," Jo said, pointing to an old car. "Connecticut. Last three digits 880."<p>

"Awesome," Dean said, pulling the Impala into the next parking spot. "They really shoulda blacked out their plates before parking in front of that security camera." He chuckled and shook his head.

Jo nodded in agreement as she slid from the backseat. "We takin' guns?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dean said as he and Sam emerged from the front seat. "We don't know what was in that box they took, and I'm not taking any chances."

Jo followed the brothers to the trunk when a small redhead came running towards them. "Ruby?" she said.

The demon slammed to a halt and grabbed Sam's arm. "I need to talk to you," she said urgently.

"We're kinda busy," Dean said, but Sam staved him off.

"I'll be fast," he said, "I promise. Go on without me." And he was off, following the demon over to a tall, shady tree.

"I don't understand why he's trusting her," Dean grumbled, handing Jo one of Sam's older Taurus'. She quickly checked that it was loaded and shrugged.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said quietly. "I mean, she got that gun working, she saved Sam's life when he was facing off against three demons at once, she's smart, and apparently other demons think she's a traitor." Jo met Dean's eyes. "Like it or not, she's got a lot goin' for her right now."

"Do you honestly believe that she still remembers what it means to be human?" Dean snorted. "Demons are manipulative bastards. They'd say whatever you wanted to hear until it's too late." He shook his head darkly. "She really shouldn't follow us around like this."

"So you don't trust Sam's empathy, then," Jo said as she followed Dean into the apartment building before them.

"Sam can tell that she's not being honest about everything," Dean said, "but he's also said demons are harder to read than humans."

"I thought that was only because their stronger emotions like hatred really showed up on his radar," Jo said.

"So what? You sayin' you think he's right, followin' her around and listenin' to what she says?" Jo could heard the anger in Dean's voice and fought to control her own temper.

"I'm saying," she punctuated, "that yes, he's four years younger than you, but he's still a grown-up and he has to start making his own decisions, especially with you getting ready to become hellhound chow in a little over ten months."

Dean blinked at her sharp words. "I didn't say —"

"I'm willing to work with Ruby because I trust Sam," Jo cut him off. "Do you?"

Dean didn't say anything as they headed up to the correct floor and entered the apartment listed on the old car's registration. He took point as they silently slid through the door.

"I'm tellin' ya, Grossman," one of the voices was saying, "I can't lose! This thing really works!"

Jo met Dean's eyes and gave him a quick nod to show she was ready, gun in her hands. Dean nodded back and then they were rushing the apartment, Dean shouting for the two men inside to freeze.

Both men quickly obeyed. Jo noticed that one had a bandaged shoulder and figured he was the one that got shot by the shotgun John had set up in his storage locker.

"All right," Dean said. "Give us the box, and please tell me you didn't open it."

Jo's eyes caught on an open container with symbols similar to the ones back in John's storage. "They did," she groused, "they _totally_ did."

"What was in it?" Dean snapped, gun pointed at the injured man. His eyes flicked over to the coffee table in front of the threadbare couch. Jo glanced down and saw —

"Is that a rabbit's foot?" she asked incredulously. The uninjured man suddenly moved towards her and she pulled the trigger on her gun.

She missed.

In fact, she not only missed, but the bullet ricocheted off a radiator in the corner and slammed into Dean's gun, knocking it from his hand before hitting and breaking a lamp.

_What the hell?_

The injured guy rushed Dean and actually knocked him to the floor. Jo quickly aimed a punch at the other man's face, but she suddenly fumbled and tripped forward, and the man grabbed her around the waist and flung her over the couch. She crashed against the coffee table, blonde hair spilling over her face and causing her to lose focus as the wood underneath her broke. She pushed her hair from her face and stumbled to her feet, only to find that her Taurus had slid three feet away and the uninjured man was already bearing down on her. Jo stumbled and tripped, sending the contents of the once-coffee table everywhere and realizing that Dean was getting punched across the face by the other man.

Something was seriously wrong.

* * *

><p>"Well?" Sam asked Ruby the moment they were out of earshot. "What are you doing here?"<p>

"I ran into a group of demons outside of Salt Lake City," Ruby said.

"Utah?" Sam frowned. "What were you doing there?"

"Nevermind that," Ruby said, shaking her head, "we've got a problem."

"And what's that?"

Ruby sighed and gave Sam a serious look. "There's a lot of demons way more powerful than me or those ones in Nebraska that got out that night," she said quietly, "and they all know about you, Sam. They all _want you dead_, and the sooner they manage it, the better for them."

It suddenly occurred to Sam that with Azazel dead, there was no one left to keep the demons at bay. "Did you get any names?" he asked wearily, but Ruby shook her head.

"I was lucky to get away with just a broken arm," she said, lifting her left arm and pulling up her jacket sleeve to reveal some dark bruising.

"You should get that casted," Sam said, but Ruby shook her head once again.

"I can accelerate the healing process to a week," she said, "but Sam, you and Dean have _got_ to be more careful."

"We have the Colt again," Sam started, but Ruby cut him off.

"You don't get it," she said, brown eyes looking at him intently. "There are demons out there who could make Neo's abilities look like child's play."

"You've seen The Matrix?" Sam asked, bemused, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

"My point is," she said, poking Sam hard in the chest, "the stakes are a lot higher now. Every demon you face is another chance that you die for good or Dean goes downstairs ahead of schedule."

Sam narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak when he heard a gun go off. "Shit," he muttered, looked over at the apartment building before facing Ruby again.

"Go," was all the demon said before Sam was off like a shot, thoughts centered first and foremost on his brother's safety.

* * *

><p>Dean didn't get choked very often. That was normally Sam's thing, but today it seemed that it was finally his turn. He tried to fight back, but despite his injury, the man with his hands around his neck seemed stronger than he should've been.<p>

Finally, Dean caught sight of something white out of the corner of his eye and he flung out his left hand, desperately trying to grab whatever it was in the hopes he could bludgeon his attacker's head with it. It seemed to be just out of reach, but Dean kept trying as black spots danced in his vision and his lungs started screaming for air.

His hand closed around the object.

It was furry.

Shit.

Only, he felt a strange surge of strength. Suddenly, it was all too easy to pry injured man's fingers off his throat and especially easy to aim a well-placed punch right to the man's bandaged shoulder. The guy cried out as he fell to one side, and Dean threw another punch to the guy's head, knocking him out.

"Dude," Dean gasped, righting himself.

"Dean!" Jo shouted.

Dean turned to see the other man was now holding his gun, pointing it right at his face, point-blank range. He felt a surge of panic over dying followed almost instantly by a desolate acceptance that he was going to Hell a lot sooner than he'd planned to.

The man smirked, let off the safety and pulled the trigger as Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

_Chnk._

Dean peeked one eye open.

_Chnk._

His gun had jammed.

_My gun don't jam!_

Just then, there were heavy footsteps and Sam burst into the room, immediately reaching a hand out and pulling Dean's gun from the robber's hand and smacking it into his own. A jerk of his head and the guy went flying into the wall, knocking down some shelves and collapsing to the ground, just as unconscious as his injured friend.

"You guys okay?" Sam asked.

"My gun jammed!" Dean exclaimed. "What the fuck!"

"Dean —" Jo said.

"No," Dean cut her off. "My gun don't jam."

Sam frowned, pointed Dean's gun at a wall and pulled the trigger.

_BANG!_

There was a moment of ringing silence.

"Seems to work fine to me," Sam said innocently. He glanced around the room, eyes landing on the opened curse box. "What was in it?"

Dean looked down at his hand, taking in the small, furry object and frowning.

"A rabbit's foot," he said, letting the little cord on one end wrap around his fingertips as he let the object dangle for Sam and Jo to see.

Sam frowned.

"It's cursed."

Sam looked over his shoulder as Ruby entered the room.

"Come again?" Dean asked.

"It's cursed," Ruby repeated. "I can see the enchantments on it." She moved closer, eyes narrowed as she stared at the small foot. "Good luck when it's in your possession," she murmured, "but lose it…" She looked up at Dean. "I think your luck goes deadly bad if you lose it."

Dean stared at Ruby for a moment before groaning in exasperation.

"Can we destroy it?" Jo asked.

"I don't know," Ruby said, "the magic I did was clear back in the Dark Ages, remember? I'm not so familiar with this — is it hoodoo?" Everyone shrugged. "Anyway, I'd have to research it." She looked over at Sam. "Think Bobby has the right books?"

"Probably," Sam said, "but he's not gonna let you research on your own."

"So come with me, then," Ruby said, rolling her eyes. "Ease the man's paranoia."

Dean scowled, but he had to agree that it was probably for the best that an actual witch research curses and spells. "You both come back here the minute you find an answer," he said. Ruby and Sam both nodded, and then the demon walked over to Sam, grabbed his forearm and they both vanished without a sound.

"Is this you trusting a demon?" Jo asked after a moment.

Dean sighed. "This is me," he said, "trusting Sam."

* * *

><p>Dean Winchester and his lady friend were easy enough to track after they left the apartment complex. She supposed it was a good thing she had showed up early to collect the acquisition from Grossman and Wayne, because it seemed they had managed to screw things up. Why had she used them again?<p>

Right. They were close to Castle Storage and supposedly good at this.

Wow.

She tailed Dean in his classic car to a gas station, where the boy bought a stack of scratch cards and started going through, gleefully telling the girl (Jo Harvelle, she eventually figured out) how much money he was racking up with his new good luck charm.

After going through the first stack, Dean went to buy more while Jo talked on the phone to one Bobby Singer about the progress of Sam's research with someone called Ruby.

"I know she makes you nervous — well, demon or not, she's different from any other demon we've ever met."

A demon. Interesting.

"So Dean can't lose the foot, then. Don't worry, we'll be — just because everyone else has lost it doesn't mean Dean will, too." Jo sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You don't think that guy who had it before will die, too, do you?" She scowled and groaned. "Well, help Sam and Ruby with their research, then!"

The conversation ended quickly after that, and she followed the Impala to a chain restaurant called Biggerson's. Good thing she had researched the area first and put together appropriate disguises.

* * *

><p>"We seriously need to go to Vegas," Dean told Jo as they entered the restaurant. "I could pull a little Rain Man, y'know? Make some big bucks."<p>

Jo scowled at him. "We really should lay low until the others find a way to destroy the thing," she said. "We don't need you losing the foot and going downstairs too soon."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam's the king of research. I'll be fine." He turned to the first man in uniform he saw. "Table for two, please," he said with a grin.

"Congratulations!" the man shouted.

"It's exciting, I know," Dean said.

"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant Family!" cried the man, who was probably the owner of the restaurant. There was an explosion of singing and photography flashes as he and Jo were presented with one of those oversized check things you only ever saw in commercials, proclaiming free food from the restaurant chain for a year, balloons and streamers falling from the ceiling.

Dean's grin grew that much wider while Jo looked dumbfounded. Best. Day. Ever.

"I don't know whether to be impressed or jealous," Jo said as they were seated in a nice window booth.

"And _that's_ why we need to hit Vegas," Dean replied brightly. "Think of the money I'd make!"

Jo chuckled and shook her head. "You are something else," she said.

The two were given cups of coffee and left to their conversation while their food was prepared.

"How many scratch cards have you gone through?" Jo asked as she sipped her coffee.

"Lost count," Dean said as he scratched off the next in his (large) pile. " But I'm already up fifteen grand." He glanced up to see Jo had raised her eyebrows.

"Haven't you thought of anything else you could do while your luck is so good?" she asked after a moment.

"Get laid," Dean answered at once. "No chick will turn me down for anything."

"I thought you _didn't_ need luck in that department," Jo said flatly. "Sam told me the other day about how he's already spent a week's worth of nights in the Impala while you've been _getting lucky _the last few weeks."

"Hey now," Dean said, "don't be jealous."

"Trust me," Jo snorted, "I'm not. Just…" She suddenly looked a little hesitant. "What about your deal?"

Dean lowered the penny in his hand quietly. "No," he said.

"But —"

"I'm going to die next year," Dean cut the blonde girl off. "There's no way out."

"But Sam and Bobby —"

"It was the first thing Sam told me when he'd learned what I'd done," Dean said. "He told me, 'I can't save you from this'. He already knows it, he did all the research after our Dad —" Dean cut off and looked out the window, good mood entirely forgotten.

"If he already knows there's no use," Jo said softly, "then why is he still trying?"

There was a long moment of silence as Dean tried to figure out what to say and how to say it.

"Because he thinks it's all his fault," he finally sighed, still not looking at the other Hunter. "He couldn't shoot Dad in the heart when he had Azazel inside him, he couldn't stop Azazel from possessing him or taking him away from us, couldn't stop the demons from feeding him their blood, couldn't get us out of that warehouse without Dad making that Deal to keep us both alive, couldn't save Dad… Sam thinks that he's to blame for everything that's gone wrong, and I can't convince him otherwise. I _know_ my days are numbered, and I'm fine with it. I don't blame Sam for anything, but I can't make him forgive himself or stop researching."

Dean slumped in his seat and stared forlornly at the pile of scratch cards he hadn't gone through yet. "Sam won't consider the possibility of me using this good luck charm to magically fix all our problems, either," he added. "I know it's gonna cross his mind, but he already knows that this is it, so he won't say anything."

Jo was staring at Dean with a sad expression on her face, but one that wasn't pity. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's all good," Dean said gruffly, snagging the next scratch card and getting to work. "Just — don't bring it up again, 'kay?"

He sensed, rather than saw, Jo nod, and silence fell over their booth.

"Can I top you up?" Dean looked up to see a pale girl with short, dark hair and a very pretty smile standing at their table with a pot of coffee in her hand. She made the Biggerson's waitress outfit look _good_.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, shooting the girl his most charming smile and ignoring Jo's eye roll. The girl smiled back and accidentally spilled some coffee as she refilled his cup.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she quickly apologized, yanking out a towel to mop up her mess.

"Don't worry about it," Dean quickly said, keeping up the smile. "No harm done."

The girl shot him another smile before walking away. Dean leaned forward slightly in his seat as he watched the waitress go, hips swaying gently in the fitted fabric of her black shorts —

"You finished ogling the faker?" Jo asked dryly.

Dean blinked.

"What?"

"I didn't see her when we came in," Jo said.

"There were a lot of people congratulating us," Dean said, "it's possible she just didn't get a chance."

"Okay, then how is it lucky that she spilled coffee on the table?"

"Well, the shirt didn't really show off her cleavage, but —" Dean began as he lifted up his cup of coffee, only it slipped out of his hand and poured right onto his lap. Cursing, Dean leapt to his feet and shoved all his scratch cards across the table at Jo while he attempted to keep his wet jeans off the family jewels until the temperature cooled a little bit.

He and Jo stared at each other for a long moment.

"How was _that_ lucky?" Jo finally asked, and Dean's hands dove into his every pocket.

The rabbit's foot was gone.

"_Fuck!"_

* * *

><p>Bela tossed her wig into the nearest dumpster, letting her dark blonde hair tumble down just past her shoulders as she clutched the towel keeping her hidden prize tucked safely away from her skin. The 1.5 million Luke promised her was so going to be worth the trouble of retrieving the bespelled artifact she now possessed. With a cheerful grin, she slid into her car, started the engine and tore out of the parking lot.<p>

It was a good day to be a great thief.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<br>_


	6. Six: A No Good, Very Bad Day

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Six: A No Good, Very Bad Day**

**Now that I've been to Disneyland and back (good break from the monotony of real life when the in-laws weren't arguing, an all-too-common occurrence, I'm afraid), we finally have a new chapter. This will tie up "Bad Day at Black Rock" and, I hope, set the stage for what's coming next. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>You gotta control your anger, Sam… Don't let it control you…"<em>

— _Danielle Palmer, "Demon Game"_

* * *

><p>The ringing cell phone jerked Weyland Kubrick out of his stupor as he waited for Creedy to bring him the new credit cards he'd applied for under false names. He glanced at the ID before flipping it open. "Yello?"<p>

"It's Boris Redford," came the reply. "I hear you've been on the lookout for the Winchesters."

"Yeah," Kubrick said, wondering if Boris wanted to join in the hunt or if this was something else. "What about it?"

"You're going to want to open your laptop and go to the Biggerson's Family Restaurant website."

Kubrick frowned, but did as told. "Biggerson's," he mumbled to himself as he looked up the website via search engine. Then he clicked on the homepage and gaped.

"That's Dean," he said. "And the girl, isn't that —?"

"Ellen Harvelle's kid, Jo," Boris supplied with his deep, old voice. "Looks like they really _do_ support the freak Dean calls his brother."

Kubrick nodded with pursed lips. "That restaurant is only an hour away from where Creedy and I are."

The two Hunters had been to Baltimore while Gordon went with Finn to visit a step-mother-turned-widow in Michigan. Kubrick had then driven them to New York to swing by one of his PO boxes for the credit cards. Hunting a freak of nature that had been raised by one of the best Hunters to ever live didn't leave much time to restock ones funds, particularly when you managed to make the FBI's wanted list for 'murder'. Like Scott Carey hadn't deserved the wrong end of Kubrick's gun. He had done the world a damn _favor_ by taking the freak of nature out.

"You know, there's no Sam in the picture," Kubrick said after a moment.

"Anyone who knows anything about the sons of John Winchester knows they don't stray far from each other nowadays," Boris replied. "Find Dean, and you'll get to Sam, I guarantee it."

Kubrick grinned. "Thanks for the tip, Boris," he said, "I owe ya one."

Boris chuckled. "Just let me know when the freak's dead so I can breathe easier."

"Will do," Kubrick said. "Take care, friend."

He snapped his phone shut just as Creedy stepped into his RV with a bag of mail and a six-pack of beer. "Who was that?"

"Boris," Kubrick said. "He found Dean Winchester, he's barely an hour's drive from where we are."

Creedy nodded. "And his brother?"

"No signs, but you know he's gotta be close by," Kubrick answered.

"I hear ya," Creedy said. "You drivin' this thing or am I?"

"You drive," Kubrick said, leaning back in his seat and staring at the picture of Dean and Jo once again. "We're gonna start with the Biggerson's Family Restaurant."

"Ooh," Creedy said, "I love their garlic knots."

"Just drive, old man," Kubrick chuckled.

Creedy grinned and clambered into the front seat of the RV. Less than a minute later, they were on their way to Buffalo, New York.

* * *

><p>"You <em>WHAT?"<em>

Ellen caught Sam wincing and rubbing at his forehead at the outburst from Bobby as he spoke on the phone with Dean. Rolling her eyes, she strode past Sam and Ruby before taking the phone from Bobby and putting it on speaker.

"It's not like I _planned_ on having a hot chick pickpocket me," Dean was saying hotly.

"Dean —"

"That's enough, Bobby," Ellen cut the man off. "Dean, you doin' all right?"

"That's a stupid question," Jo's irritated voice came over the speaker. "He's already spilled coffee all over his only clean pair of jeans, crashed into a server who spilled two trays of food everywhere, tripped on his own feet and scraped his knees raw, stepped in dog crap, and it hasn't even been _an hour_ since the foot was stolen! If he loses one of his boots next, I'm so done, I swear."

"Do you think the guy who had the foot before Dean is still alive?" Ruby asked from the other side of the room. "If not, then I wouldn't give Dean another two hours before he finally kicks it."

"Shut up, Ruby," Bobby and Ellen said at the same time.

"Dude, I don't even _dare_ drive the Impala," Dean said over the phone. "I don't want her to blow up."

Ellen closed her eyes for a moment. "We're still looking for answers," she said, placing a hand on Bobby's shoulders.

"We need that foot back," Dean replied. "Jo and I will go visit those guys, see if we can find out who hired them to steal it in the first place. Jo, you're driving. Ow!"

Sam looked up. "What happened?"

"He got stung by a wasp," Jo sighed. "Sam, maybe you should come back instead of doing research. I don't think I can handle this on my own."

Ellen watched with sympathy as Sam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. As it turned out, being transported a thousand miles demon-style left him with a headache bordering on a migraine. "All right," he finally said. "Ruby will bring me back, then she'll return to help with the research."

"But —" Bobby started.

"She's got experience," Ellen cut him off. "She knows the older works, which means she can help us find an answer." Bobby stared at her for a moment before sighing and nodding. "Jo, go find out who hired those men. Sam will meet you there, all right?"

"All right," Jo replied.

"And keep a close eye on Dean," Ellen added. "Seriously, keep him away from all things sharp or otherwise deadly."

"I will." Ellen hung up and glanced at Bobby with a slight smile before turning to Sam and Ruby.

"Let's get some food and meds into you before we send you back, Sam," she said.

"I'm fine," Sam started to reply, but Ellen refused to hear a word of it.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your every wince, Sam Winchester," she scolded lightly, walking over to him and pulling the book in his hands away. "Goin' back out there won't help that headache, but you have to. Dean needs you to be able to focus if he's gonna make it through this."

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, ma'am," he finally said. That was more like it.

Ellen turned to head into the kitchen, ignoring Ruby when she called out, "Can we have fries?"

* * *

><p>"No one saw where they went," Creedy told Kubrick as he returned to the RV, which was parked outside the Biggerson's restaurant. "And their meal was free, so there's no credit card trail."<p>

"I'm sure they're still somewhere around the area," Kubrick said with confidence. "We'll find them, I know it."

Creedy raised his eyebrows. "How are you so sure?"

"There's a higher power at work here," Kubrick said, turning his face skyward for a moment and smiling. "We've come this far already."

"Shouldn't we call Gordon, tell him where we are?"

Kubrick shook his head. "Not until we find Sam." He looked around. "We need a motel to stay at," he added after a moment.

"I'll go look one up on Yahoo," Creedy sighed, retreating into the RV. Sometimes his friend really seemed like a whacko, but they _had_ come this far. Besides, Gordon would only be pleased if they found and caught the freak on their own, right?

He tried to convince himself they were doing the right thing and hoped he succeeded.

* * *

><p>"We know someone hired you," Jo said to Grossman as he sat forlornly in his chair in the middle of the apartment. Apparently the other man who had touched the foot was already dead, speared through the neck by a grilling fork. Fan-fucking-tastic.<p>

"You don't know nothin'," Grossman replied, voice flat.

"Dude, c'mon," Dean said, stepping forward and promptly knocking a CD player off the table next to him. He tried to grab it, only to get tangled up in its cord, so he went down, taking the player and a lamp with him in a loud crash behind the threadbare couch.

"Dean?" Jo called out worriedly.

"I'm okay!" Dean finally huffed out, one arm flinging up and latching onto the back of the couch. A moment later, Dean finally managed to upright himself before running his hands through his hair, knocking out bits of the broken lamp as he tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing.

Jo bit her lip, still caught between laughter and fear, before turning back to Grossman. "Tell me," she said. "Your partner in crime is _dead_, Grossman, and more are going to join the list if we don't stop it now." She leaned a little closer and softened her voice. "You're a thief, but you're not a killer, are you?"

The despondent man stared at Jo for a long moment before sighing. "She said her name was Lugosi."

Jo and Dean left quickly after that, stepping outside to see Sam leaning against the side of the Impala, rubbing at his forehead with a grimace. "Sam," Jo called out. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said, giving her a strained smile.

"Dude, I just stepped on gum!" Dean cried out in dismay from behind Jo. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a calming breath.

"We got a name," she told Sam, pulling out her cell phone. "Did Ruby go back to Bobby's?"

"Yeah," Sam said, "although Bobby wasn't very pleased."

"I believe it," Jo chuckled, dialing Ellen's number and putting her phone up to her ear. She relayed the information she had gotten and received an answer from Bobby. "The woman's name is Bela Talbot," she told Sam and Dean, watching as Dean tried to scrape the gum off his boot on the edge of the sidewalk. "Bobby says she deals in the black market with magical items, and the last he heard, she was somewhere in the Middle East. He's gonna call some contacts, see if he can't find out where she is."

"It won't come off!" Dean groused, glaring down at his boot.

"Bobby also says that Ruby found a cleansing ritual that should break the curse," Jo continued blithely, ignoring Dean for the moment. "Thing is, we need the rabbit's foot back to do it."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Let's get you two to a motel," he said after a moment. "Once Bobby finds out where this Bela is, I'll go find her and retrieve the foot."

"You're gonna leave me with him?" Jo asked in dismay. "What if he gets _me_ hurt?"

"Hey!" Dean said indignantly.

"Duct tape him to a chair, then," Sam said with the barest hint of a grin. "If he can't move, then things can't go wrong."

"We are _not_ tying me down," Dean snapped, finally ignoring the gum on his boot, "and I'm coming with you."

"So you can _really_ make the Impala blow up?" Sam asked with raised eyebrows. "I thought you had more respect for your baby."

Dean's mouth fell open, but he seemed to have nothing to say.

"We almost got in a car wreck already," Jo said with a scowl. "Sam, I'd still rather go with you."

"No," Sam said simply. "You're the babysitter until I get that foot back, okay? We can't let _anything_ happen to him."

"I don't need a babysitter," Dean grumbled petulantly.

Jo just sighed and glared at Sam. "Fine," she said. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>The sound of the front door slamming shut startled Roxy out of her silent musing. "Taryn?" she called out.<p>

"I saw her!" Taryn burst into the room, purse still swinging from one arm and her jacket dangling off one shoulder. "I saw her, Roxy, I _saw her!_ She's alive!"

"Who?" Roxy asked. "Who are you talking about, babe?"

"Alexia!"

Roxy froze.

"Say that again," she finally said slowly, staring in concern at her girlfriend as the redhead took in deep, heaving breaths.

"I was up in Salt Lake today to have lunch with my aunt, remember?" Taryn asked. Roxy nodded silently. "Well, we were walking back to the flower shop she works at when I heard a commotion coming from the alleyway we were passing, so I stopped to look and —" She shook her head, eyes wide and mouth split into an almost crazed-looking smile. "I _saw_ her."

"Alexia," Roxy said to clarify, and Taryn nodded. "Your cousin."

"It was so weird," Taryn continued after a moment, dropping her purse on the bedroom floor and finally pulling her jacket back over her freckled shoulder. "She was… _surrounded_ by all these people, like six or seven, and they all had these menacing looks on their faces, but I swear, one of them was that ballet dancer who went missing last month like, the _night_ before her show was due to open at the Capitol Theater. And Alexia, she was dressed differently, like less pearls and cardigans and more jeans and leather jackets." She looked back at Roxy. "I think she even had a _knife_ strapped to her leg, and her hair was actually hanging down for a change, but it was _her_, I know it was."

Roxy frowned and swallowed hard. "What happened next?" she asked after a few seconds.

Taryn sank onto their bed, eyes distant. "One of the others, the dancer, she was saying something to Lex, but she was shaking her head and looking all defensive, so the dancer… she lifted up one hand and Lex _flew_ up against the alley wall, and then there was this _crack_ and she cried out, so I yelled at them."

Taryn's eyes refocused and she gave Roxy a deeply troubled look. "I don't know if it was the lighting, but their eyes?" She swallowed. "It looked like every last one of them had black eyes."

Roxy's insides went cold. _Oh, shit._

"Anyway, Alexia shouted at me to run and then she just _vanished_." Taryn gave Roxy a wide-eyed look. "Like, just _gone_. And then the others disappeared, too. Like it had never happened." Taryn swallowed hard as a worried expression crossed her face. "Roxy… am I going crazy?"

"No!" Roxy said at once. "I mean, I don't know what you saw, but your cousin… it's been a month, and she went missing clear across the Atlantic. How could she be here?"

"I don't know," Taryn all but cried out, looking distressed, "but my aunt saw it, too! I don't understand what's going on, Rox. I mean, all those people who disappeared between November and April before all showing up dead, and then Dani — and now all these other people who are just _gone_, Roxy. What's going on?"

"I don't know," Roxy said softly, mind whirling too fast for words. She needed to find out if there was anything peculiar about Alexia's disappearance, but there was no way the authorities would talk to her, unless… "I need to make a phone call," she said softly.

"What?" Taryn asked, face scrunching up in confusion.

"Sorry," Roxy said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Taryn's forehead. "Just — I have to go… do something, but I won't be long and then we can make dinner, okay?"

"Okay," Taryn said slowly, "but I don't —"

"Everything's okay," Roxy cut her off, "I promise." She kissed Taryn on the mouth this time before grabbing her cell phone, wallet and car keys. "I'll be back in less than an hour." She left quickly, unable to look her lover in the eyes as she shut the front door and let herself into her car.

Ten minutes later, she pulled into an empty church parking lot and pulled out her phone. "Here goes," she murmured to herself, flipping it open and going through her contacts before selecting the right one and putting her phone up to her ear. She bit her lip anxiously as she waited for the phone to be answered.

"Hello?" came a gruff voice at last.

"Hey, is this Bobby Singer?" Roxy asked softly.

"Yeah."

"My name's Roxy Parker, I'm Sam and Dean's friend… Can we talk?"

* * *

><p>Ellen called when Sam pulled into the parking lot of a motel to report on the whereabouts of Bela Talbot. "Thanks," Sam said to her. "I'll call when I get the foot back." He checked Jo and Dean into a room, told Dean not to move for anything, told Jo to be careful, and then he was off. "New York City, here I come."<p>

He used his abilities to keep any law enforcement away and made the drive in less than three hours, even getting traffic to make way for him as he made his way to Queens. Finally, he reached the address Ellen gave him just after dawn and found a place to park the Impala before quickly making his way to the fifth floor of the apartment building.

_Okay_, he told himself, _go in, grab the rabbit's foot, get out, then back to Dean. Fast and simple_.

He steeled himself and reached out with his mind to unlock the door silently.

He was in.

* * *

><p>Jo had been in the bathroom for all of five seconds after finishing her breakfast bagel when Dean suddenly yelled, "Fire!"<p>

Only just containing a groan, Jo ran back out into the motel room.

The little A/C unit under the window seemed to have faulty wiring, because there were flames licking their way through the grating. "Dean, don't —"

Dean ran forward, snagged a blanket and starting trying to smother the fire.

"— move." Jo didn't stop her groan as she moved forward. "Just — get away from it, Dean. I can handle it."

"I almost got it," Dean said quickly, pulling back only to find the flames rekindling. "Hang on! Crap."

A few seconds later, the fire was out and Dean breathed out a sigh of relief as he rose. "See?" he said to Jo. "No harm."

Then the sleeve of his dark blue jacket caught fire. "Shit!" Jo grabbed the blanket from Dean and threw it over his arm, but Dean stumbled, reached out to grab at the window curtain and pulled it off the rod and went down hard, knocking himself out. Jo barely restrained her scream of frustration as she followed Dean down and finally put a stop to the flames on his arm. Then she rose, cursing under her breath and looked out the window.

Two Hunters she hadn't seen in over a year stood on the other side, staring right back at her. As Jo reached for the gun at the small of her back, she couldn't help but wonder if this day could get any worse.

* * *

><p>Bela prided herself on a lot of things. Her thievery skills, her luxurious way of living, her money, her car, and, of course, her sixth sense for trouble.<p>

Which made it incredibly annoying to be facing off, gun to gun with a man the size of a mammoth. No one was supposed to be able to get into her flat, not with the security system. Suffice it to say, she was highly displeased.

"I need that rabbit's foot you stole from my brother," Sam said after a moment.

Bela smiled. "No," she said. "Well, if you have 1.5 million on you, then I'm willing to hand it over."

Sam stared at her, face impassive. "How did you know where to look for the foot? According to my friends, it's been locked up in my dad's storage locker for at least ten years."

Bela glanced at her ouji board. "The ghosts of the people it's killed were very attuned to its location," she answered calmly. Sam also glanced over at the shelf, gun still tightly trained on her.

"Figures," Sam muttered. "So you plan to sell it? Doesn't your buyer know what happens if they lose it?"

"Some people are very willing to pay high, lucrative prices for the things I procure," Bela answered.

"You mean steal," Sam said flatly. "You're a thief."

"No," Bela repeated. "I'm a great thief."

"That foot needs to be destroyed," Sam told her. Bela chuckled and shook her head.

"You Hunters," she whispered, "with all your amulets and talismans. You could put your children's children through college with them if you weren't so wrapped up in petty revenge and anger."

A strange look crossed Sam's face before it vanished.

"Hunters would argue that saving innocent lives is more important than money."

Bela tilted her head to one side as she stared up at Sam. "I've done my research," she told him. "You were on your way to becoming an outstanding lawyer. What was that for if not the money?"

Sam's eyes shuttered. "It was more about finding a legal way to help people," he said. "I wouldn't know what to do with 1.5 million if it hit me in the face."

"The price of growing up on the road?"

Sam snorted softly.

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm not letting my brother die," Sam finally said, and suddenly, Bela felt her muscles freeze up. She couldn't move! "You should know," Sam continued as he put away his gun, strode over to the counter and picked up the rabbit's foot, "I don't actually _like_ making people do what I tell them, but I can't have you trying to stop me because then I'd have to kill you and I don't want to go down that path." Bela glared silently as Sam shoved the foot into his jacket pocket. "Don't follow me," he said with forceful intent, "and don't come after any of us, not about this."

Somehow Bela knew she was going to obey. "What if we run into each other in the future?" she finally asked in a tight voice, expression pinched. At least she could still talk, she thought to herself.

Sam smiled. "We'll cross that bridge if it comes to that," he said, "but for now, consider this rabbit's foot a last cause."

"I'm going to have a very angry client on my hands," Bela told him.

"Not my problem," Sam said with a shrug, walking past Bela for the door.

"Hunters talk about you, you know," she called out, still unable to move. The sound of Sam's footsteps stopped.

"I know," Sam said after a few seconds, voice quiet. "They call me a freak of nature, but I'm not evil, Bela. I'm just someone who's willing to do whatever it takes to watch out for their family." And with those words, he left. Seconds later, Bela's knees almost buckled and she staggered to her couch.

It seemed the stories were true. The Winchesters were said to value family above all else. Mess with them, and the price of revenge… Bela dropped onto her couch, her Siamese cat leaping lightly onto her legs a few moments later.

"Note to self," Bela sighed aloud. "Don't mess with the Winchesters."

_At least, not so directly._

* * *

><p>"… just wanna know where he is."<p>

"We can stand here all day, Kubrick. I'm not telling either of you a damn thing other than we were trying to _stop_ that Gate from being opened."

"Then who opened it?"

"What's it matter? That person is dead."

"Sam's still alive."

"It wasn't Sam, for the _last_ time!"

Dean groaned and slowly lifted a hand to rub at the back of his aching skull. What was going on?

"Oh, it looks like Sleeping Beauty's finally gonna join us."

Cracking his eyes open, Dean took in three figures. One was definitely Jo, and she had her gun trained on the other two figures. He could only assume they were Hunters, given the conversation he had just heard.

"Don't you dare get up, Dean," Jo said in a hard voice. "I've got this."

"You're outnumbered without him, girly," said the taller of the two Hunters. "All we wanna know is what happened in Wyoming, and where Sam is. That's it."

"Not here," Dean groaned, lifting his head enough to glare at the men. "Who are you?"

"Kubrick and Creedy," Jo said shortly. "Haven't seen them in over a year."

Dean frowned. "Didn't a Kubrick shoot Scott Carey?"

"That was me," said the tall man. Dean blinked and took in his curly hair and sharp features.

"That wasn't very nice of you," Dean said. "Scott did nothing to warrant death."

"You _would_ say that," Kubrick said, "given what your brother is."

"What my brother is," Dean snapped, "is human with psychic powers. No destiny to be in a demon army, let alone lead one."

"Leading an army?" said Creedy.

Jo groaned. "You might wanna shut up now, Dean."

Dean scowled.

"Look," Jo continued, "we've got nothing to say, and I'm getting' tired of this standoff. Get out and don't come back."

"Where's Sam?" asked Kubrick.

"Not here," Jo snarled. "Contrary to popular belief, the Winchester brothers are _not_ glued at the hips."

Creedy glanced at Dean.

"What she said," was all he supplied.

Just then, he heard the Impala pulling into the parking lot. _This can't end well_, he thought, watching as Jo's tense posture turned positively statuesque.

Creedy glanced out the window. "Isn't that the car they drive?"

A moment later, Dean heard the driver's door open. There was a pause before it slammed shut, and seconds later, Sam appeared in the open doorway. Dean suddenly realized that the two intruders must have kicked in the motel room door while he was out, mostly because there were wood splinters around Sam's feet.

"What's going on?" Sam asked. "Who are you?"

"Kubrick and Creedy," Jo said. "Kubrick killed Scott Carey last year, and Creedy's his friend."

Dean watched as Sam's normally expressive face shut down. "Get out," he said lowly, "and don't come back."

He moved aside and watched the two men as they instantly obeyed. Sam didn't move until the sound of an RV started up and faded away. "Did you get it?" Jo finally asked.

Sam looked down at Dean and reached into his pocket, pulling out the rabbit's foot. "We need a cemetery," he said, "and then this'll all be over."

"Awesome," Dean said, finally pushing off the floor and stumbling to his feet. "I got some scratch cards you need to go through before we destroy that ugly piece of dead thing, though."

Sam slumped and he gave Dean a look. Jo snorted and rolled her eyes.

That night, they burned the foot in the middle of the local cemetery. The next day, Dean cashed in the scratch cards and got over forty thousand dollars.

Not a bad day in the end there, he thought cheerily as he began the drive back to Sioux Falls. Not such a bad day at all.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	7. Seven: Shields Made of Lies

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Seven: Shields Made of Lies**

**New chapter! Yay! There's not a whole lot of action in this chapter or the next, but we're gonna cover some important plot points. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>There are all kinds of different torture, and not all of them involve physical pain. Most everyone gets thrown on the rack and tortured day after day. I'd sooner die than go back there."<em>

— _Derrick, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>"This is a statement by the Young family and Roxanne Parker, drawn up by their lawyer, Vincent Westridge," Reidy said, dropping a manilla folder on Victor's temporary desk at the FBI field office in Salt Lake City, Utah.<p>

"You read it?" Victor asked with a drawn-out sigh.

Reidy nodded. "There's some details we didn't know about that they admit to," he said, "but the picture they paint of the brothers is… well, they said they're strong, noble and mentally stable. It also says they were in the neighborhood selling discounted sprinkler systems when Sam and Palmer managed to start talking and _connecting_. But get this. The brothers were here in January, too."

Victor looked up. "Come again?"

Reidy smirked. "It seems that Dean got stabbed during the bank robbery in Milwaukee, but he and Sam didn't show up at the house Palmer and Parker were renting until nearly _nine _days later to recuperate. Parker also states that while Sam and Palmer were very close, their relationship was never of a sexual nature."

Victor frowned and picked up the folder. "This statement is a good nine pages long," he said.

"Apparently a lot can happen in the space of six months. Oh, both of Palmer's sisters have Asperger's autism, but they both signed the statement and said they found the brothers 'a lot of fun' to be around." Reidy reached out and flipped the pages of the statement. "The interesting part is near the end," he said. "They knew about their criminal history, all of it."

Victor stared down at the page Reidy was pointing to.

_Their criminal record does not match their personalities. Both brothers were trustworthy, kind, and very polite. There was never any indication that they should be feared or mistrusted._

"I cannot believe this," Victor groaned out, "and all this from a man who works with crazy people. Shouldn't Harry Young have a better perception of crazy? He's with them _all day_, surely he knows what to look for!"

Reidy shrugged. "There's a pretty good chance they've already been in contact with the Winchesters to let them know we're here, so I doubt they'll be dropping by anytime soon, if ever again."

Victor sighed. "Were they here for Palmer's funeral?"

Reidy sighed and nodded. "Statement says that Sam delivered the news of her death to her parents personally. It uh… it says that he tried to save her."

Victor rubbed his chin. "Given what we know about the younger brother, it's entirely possible that he did," he said, "but Dean…"

"You think he might've pulled the trigger himself?"

Victor picked up another file he had been looking over before Reidy showed up with the family statement. "I got a ballistics report," he said. "The bullet recovered from Palmer's body at Provo's morgue appears to match the silver bullets pulled from the corpse in St. Louis."

"Appears?"

"Silver is more malleable," Victor sighed, "which makes it harder to reconstruct, but there's a good chance it was the same gun that fired both bullets. We _have_ to suspect Dean."

Reidy nodded. "So what's our next move?"

Victor rubbed his chin for a few seconds. "We're at a dead end here," he finally said. "Unless new evidence turns up, then the Young family and Ms. Parker have merely joined the list of those the Winchester's managed to fool. We're leaving."

* * *

><p>It was more than easy to mentally prod everyone to stay asleep when Sam slipped out of Bobby's house and drove off in the Impala. There weren't a lot of crossroads in South Dakota, and chances were the one Sam was going to was the same one used by Dean two months ago, but he had to ask. He had to know.<p>

"Hello, Sam."

The Crossroads Demon was in the body of a slight brunette with dark eyes and olive skin. She smiled charmingly at Sam and smoothed her host's hands down the front of her black dress. "Come to try and break your brother's Deal?"

"No," Sam said. "I already know it can't be done by you." He pulled out the Colt and pointed it at her.

"So what?" the demon asked with a laugh, "you're gonna kill me in a fit of petty revenge? I tend to only _make_ the Deals, Sammy, not keep the contracts. At least," she added with a seductive smile, "not a Deal like Dean's."

"Because his is more important than most," Sam guessed.

"You didn't hear it from me," the demon with a poised shrug.

"I want to know who _does_ hold his contract," Sam said after a few seconds, "who you answer to."

"My boss?" The demon's smile turned into a coy grin. "He didn't get a say with this contract, just like he didn't get a say in the Deal Azazel made with your father. He _did_ allow me to let that Evan Hudson with the cancer-ridden wife out of his contract, but those were… _extenuating_ circumstances."

Sam narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Being the King of the Crossroads doesn't mean you're in complete control of the business," the demon added after a moment. "Crowley answers to his own boss."

"Crowley," Sam echoed. "So he doesn't hold Dean's contract."

The demon shook her head. "Dean's contract is held by a much more powerful demon," she finally said, "and this demon? She _really_ wants you dead."

Sam frowned. "This wouldn't be the same demon Azazel wanted to let out of Hell, would it?"

The Crossroads Demon broke into another grin. "Been talking to Tara, have you?"

Sam nodded. "She's dead."

"Killed by the same gun you're pointing at me, or so I'd imagine." The demon took a deep breath, letting it out with a smirk as she turned away and looked around. "There isn't much in South Dakota, is there?"

"Rolling hills, mostly," Sam agreed quietly. "You gonna tell me the demon's name? Tara didn't know it."

The demon looked over her shoulder. "I have no interest in telling you," she said, turning away again and stretching her arms above her head.

"Being threatened by a gun that can actually _kill_ you isn't enough incentive?" Sam asked skeptically.

"You're not gonna kill me," the demon laughed, turning to face Sam again. "Everyone knows that Sam Winchester isn't a killer. Besides," she added, "my meatsuit is still living and breathing. You really want to kill the human trapped inside?"

Sam swallowed hard, grip tightening slightly on the Colt. "Tell me who hold Dean's contract," he said tightly.

The demon tilted her head to one side. "Why aren't you using your mojo on me?" she asked.

Sam's jaw tightened. "It doesn't work the same since Azazel died," he finally admitted. "I can only control human minds, not monsters like you."

The demon snorted. "Of course," she said. "Azazel's blood was the source point of most of your powers."

"Most?"

The demon stepped closer to Sam, ignoring the demon-killing gun still pointed at her face. "Azazel was searching out bloodlines with psychic potential," she said softly. "He could've fed blood to your brother, but he chose _you_, Sam. It _always_ had to be you."

"What does that even mean?" Sam asked sharply, thinking of the vision he'd had at that convent in Ilchester nearly a year ago. "You can't be talking about destiny."

"But I am," the demon said lightly. "You can scoff all you want, Sam, but your brother is _supposed_ to go to Hell by way of a Deal."

"That's not gonna happen," Sam said tightly, and the demon laughed.

"You can't control what happens next," she said. "You were always meant to be the last one of your generation standing once the dust settled. That's why you shot your dear Danielle in the abdomen and then watched her bleed out."

"Shut up," Sam snapped.

The Crossroads Demon laughed some more. "You're the boy king, Sammy. You're supposed to _lead_ us to victory."

"That's never gonna happen," Sam told her. "I'm not evil."

"But there's a lot of Hunters out there who think otherwise," the demon replied. "They listen to the ravings of a lunatic and desire to find you and end your life."

Sam's jaw worked, but he refused to reply.

"The demon who holds your brother's contract really _is_ topside," the Crossroads Demon finally said after a few moments had passed. "She wants you dead, Sam. She _wants_ to be the leader who conquers the world, and since she's not some _infected_ human like you, her words and power hold sway."

Sam slowly lowered the Colt. "I won't let her kill me," he said quietly, "and I won't let her have Dean." He reached out with his telekinesis and forced the Crossroads Demon still while he mentally drew a Devil's Trap around her and began to chant. A few minutes later, the demon had been sent back into the Pit, and Sam returned to Sioux Falls with the once-possessed girl in tow. After dropping her off at the nearest bus station with some money to get back home, he headed back to Bobby's with a heavy heart. Whoever the demon holding Dean's contract was, she was going to come after him sooner or later, and when she did, he would be ready.

Hell was not going to have his brother, too.

* * *

><p>Roxy was heading into work at the movie theater when her phone started ringing. She pulled out and stared at the number for a moment, feeling her heart start to pound. What answers did the caller have for her? Were they the answers she wanted? Did she even <em>want<em> answers?

Swallowing hard, she pressed the 'talk' button and held her phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Roxanne Parker?"

"That's me."

"Hello, it's Natalie Forshner," said the caller in a crisp accent, "I'm returning your call about your missing friend."

Roxy quickly headed for the employee break room, tense with trepidation. "What did you find out?"

Natalie sighed. "Well, you have good instincts, first off. Bobby was right to get you in touch with me."

Roxy paused, hand on the break room door. "Okay," she said.

"Your friend apparently vanished without a trace, according to the report," Natalie said, "but the kicker is in the details. There were no signs of forced entry through either the hotel room door or the fire escape by the window, but there _was_ something on the windowsill."

Roxy swallowed.

"The crime scene unit identified it as sulfur."

Roxy closed her eyes and backed away from the break room, seeking refuge behind a standee of some upcoming movie. "So she was taken by a demon."

"It would appear so," Natalie said. "Unfortunately, without knowing the name of the demon, I have no way to help you find your friend."

"Summoning rituals only work if you have their name?" Roxy asked.

"Or have at least seen the possessed human since the demon took over," Natalie answered, "neither of which has occurred, yes?"

"That's right," Roxy said softly, thinking of Taryn's bizarre story a week earlier. She _couldn't_ tell her what was really going on, though. There was no way Taryn would believe her, particularly seeing as how the redhead was borderline atheist. She tugged loosely at the ends of her wig and tried to focus. "Well, thank you for your help, it's way more than any of us has had since she went missing."

"I'm glad I could help at all," Natalie said. "Oh, tell Bobby he still owes me one for Osaka."

Roxy frowned, but promised to pass on the message. "Weird," she muttered, putting her phone away and heading to the break room to put her purse away and clock in, mind whirring over the new information she now had.

Alexia had definitely been taken by a demon, but how was she going to track it down and get her girlfriend's cousin back? She resolved to email Sam her information as soon as she got home, and headed out of the break room to take her post in the box office. One way or another, she was going to get Alexia back.

* * *

><p>"Sam, duck!"<p>

A week after the events of the rabbit's foot found Sam and Dean hunting vampires in Seattle, Washington. Dean didn't know about Sam's trip to the crossroads, and Sam had no desire to bring it up. Dean was clearly already of the opinion that there was nothing to be done and that he was happy with it (Sam knew better, of course), so telling him the demon holding his contract was determined to see Sam dead again would fail to help things. At least, that was how Sam justified his decision in his mind. Truthfully, he just didn't want Dean to know for as long as possible, because once he started being honest, other truths might come tumbling out.

After all, Dean didn't need to know that he was going to one day go back in time and set Azazel's sights on their family. Knowing it was going to happen was the only thing that gave Sam hope that he could save his brother. You couldn't go back in time if you were dead and in Hell, right?

The question remained, though: how _was_ Dean going to manage such a feat?

But now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Sam obeyed Dean's command and dropped to the floor, feeling one of the vamps they had tracked to its hideout in the warehouse district go tumbling over him. He was up a moment later, machete in hand and two seconds after that, the vampire's head was chopped off from its body.

Sam still didn't like killing monsters in such a close and personal way. If they could have picked the vamps off one at a time by capturing and sequestering them, then Dean could have done all the bloody work. In fact, Dean seemed to be having the time of his life, jeering at the vamps as his machete slashed through the air, taking off one head after another. If Sam had a weaker stomach, he would have opted out of the fighting as much as possible, but even if he didn't like any of this, he could at least handle it.

The fighting didn't last much longer, and soon it was Dean against one last vampire. Sam sensed that Dean wanted to handle this one on his own, so he backed away, ready to step in if needed. This particular vamp was the oldest and clearly the leader of the 'family' the boys had taken out.

"I'm going to rip you to shreds," the vamp hissed as he and Dean circled each other.

"Well, that's already on the cards for my future," Dean replied with the barest hint of a shrug, "but you're welcome to try, anyway."

The vampire frowned before rushing forward to tackle Dean, but he was more than ready. In a matter of seconds, he managed to flip the vamp onto his back, raised his machete, and with a dull _thunk_, the vampire's head was separated from the rest of his body.

Dean rose and turned to Sam with a grin. "Man, what a rush!" he exclaimed, looking positively energetic as he wiped off his blade on one of the vampire's clothes.

"You get all your jollies out, then?" Sam asked dryly. Dean flipped him off and headed for the warehouse exit. Sam sighed and quickly moved to follow his brother.

"Is this how it's gonna be, Dean?" he asked as they stepped out into the fading sunlight.

"Is this how _what's_ gonna be?" Dean asked.

"The rest of your year before Hell," Sam replied.

Dean didn't say anything, but his emotions were making it clear he didn't want to talk about it, which was tough, because Sam wanted words and he was going to get them, even if it meant getting punched or left on the side of the road.

"So, what, you're gonna hunt, kill monsters, get drunk and have tons of sex until the Hellhounds come for you?"

Dean stopped about five feet away from the Impala and turned to face Sam. "Yes," he finally said. "I am going to drive my baby all over the country with my little brother riding shotgun and do what I do best. And when my time is up, I'm done, end of story."

"But that's just it!" Sam exclaimed. "You'll be dead and in _Hell_, Dean. It's not like you'll get to relax by a beach with a fruity drink in one hand while watching girls in bikinis play volleyball." Dean's eyes glazed a little at the imagery that invoked and Sam barely bit back a growl of frustration. "Dean, they are going to _torture_ you. They'll stick you on a rack and do God knows what to you day after day after day until you break and become just like them, and we're both supposed to just be _okay_ with this?"

"A rack?" Dean asked.

Sam bit back a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "When I was in L.A., one of the demons, Derrick, he told me a little bit about Hell," he said. "But most of what I know came from Meg."

"From Meg? But I thought she didn't show you —"

"She liked to torture me with my own memories," Sam cut Dean off, "but she also liked to talk a lot. I didn't take a whole lot of what she said in while she was strapped into the drivers seat, but later on, when Dani — when she was helping me put my brain back in order, some of the things Meg said managed to shake loose."

Dean stared at Sam with a sense of morbid curiosity. "What'd she say?"

"She…" Sam swallowed and looked away as the memories came to the forefront of his mind. "She said it was a prison of flesh and bone and blood. No one likes it down there, Dean, they all want out so they can come here and have the freedom to do whatever they want. Everyone gets twisted and bent and burned out of shape until they lose their humanity so completely that some forget they were _ever_ human _at all_." Sam refocused on Dean, giving him a hard stare. "You say you can't live without me, but how am I supposed to live without you when I _know_ where you're going and what's going to happen to you?"

"We did it when Dad went," Dean said.

"Yeah Dean," Sam snapped, "_we_ did it, together."

There was a moment of silence.

"You already said you can't save me," Dean finally said, raising his arms slightly before letting them drop back to his sides.

"Ruby says I can if we find the demon who holds your contract and kill her," Sam replied.

"Her?" Dean echoed.

Sam realized he had slipped up, but quickly recovered with, "She thinks the demon is the same one Azazel wanted to set free back in Wyoming."

Dean's eyes hardened. "You really trusting a demon, Sam?"

"I never said I trusted her," Sam said at once with a frown, "but you can't deny that she's been helpful. Besides, her emotions are easier to read than most demons, so it's not like I wouldn't be able to tell if she was lying to us or not."

Dean's jaw clenched, but he only said, "Let's get going," and headed for the car.

Sam sighed once again, silently prayed for patience, and headed for the passenger seat. One way or another, he was going to make Dean stop lying to the both of them and everyone else. There was no way he'd be able to save Dean if he couldn't convince them both that it was possible.

* * *

><p>Taryn was in the kitchen when Roxy got home. "Hey, babe!" she called out. "I'm making lasagna!"<p>

"Sounds good," Roxy replied, pulling her phone out of her purse and heading for their bedroom. "I'll be out in a minute to help."

Taryn didn't reply, but Roxy knew her girlfriend had to be a little confused by the lack of a proper greeting. She told herself that nothing was more important than getting that email sent out to Sam and Dean. They encountered so many demons that maybe, just _maybe,_ they might have seen Alexia as someone else. Even if Taryn's cousin was dead, any information they could provide was better than leaving it a mystery, right?

She pulled out her laptop, pulling up a picture of Alexia from Taryn's MySpace page and loading it into her email. She clicked the 'send' button right as the bedroom door opened and Taryn walked in. Roxy quickly closed down her browser and smiled up at the redhead. "Hey, almost done."

"What's up?" Taryn asked, pulling the laptop aside and leaning in for a kiss.

"Just had to send a quick email," Roxy said softly. "Lemme get out of my work clothes and then I'll be out to help like I said, okay?"

Taryn nodded and stepped back. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, love," Roxy said. "Why?"

"It's just —" Taryn broke off and pressed her lips together in a way that reminded Roxy painfully of Danielle. "You've been kinda… _secretive_ this last week. Did I say o-or… maybe I did something wrong?"

"No!" Roxy exclaimed, surging to her feet and seizing Taryn's shoulders. "Never, Taryn! Don't ever think something like that, you understand me? You could_ never_ do anything wrong." She pulled Taryn into her arms. "I promise," she whispered.

Taryn clung to Roxy and buried her face against the side of her neck. "What's going on, then?" she asked. "And don't say 'nothing', cause I can tell better than that." She paused. "Is this about what I said last week when I was in Salt Lake?"

Roxy swallowed hard. "I…" What could she say? Taryn wasn't ever supposed to know about the things that went 'bump' in the night, she and Danielle had agreed on this before Taryn had moved in with them, and they had both held to that agreement. Taryn's world was supposed to be _normal_. "Kind of," she finally said. "I've been hearing other weird stories like it from friends at work, and I've… well, I've been curious about it. But that's over with. Nothing's wrong, I swear it."

Taryn nodded against Roxy's neck and kissed it before pulling back. "Okay," she said. "I believe you." She placed another kiss on Roxy's lips, and Roxy barely resisted the urge to pull her love in close and show her physically that everything was fine. "I need to get back to the food," Taryn sighed, and Roxy grinned.

"Contain yourself until _after_ we eat," she said with a wink. Taryn laughed, snagged another kiss and left the room. Roxy slumped onto the bed and dropped her head into her hands, roughly pulling off her work wig and barely resisting the urge to crush it in her hands.

_This was all so much easier to hide when Dani was here,_ she thought with a surge of anger. _Why did you leave me? Why did you betray us all? What _was_ there about you that I never knew?_

Not knowing all the answers was so frustrating at times, and now was a prime example. Roxy heaved herself off her bed, set her wig back on its head, pinned it in place and changed out of her work clothes, pulling on sweats and an oversized t-shirt. She paused to stare at her reflection and wondered what kind of person she'd be if she had never known the truth about the world. Would she still have been able to live in the same ignorant bliss that Taryn did?

"You ever coming outta there?" Taryn hollered, and Roxy couldn't help but grin.

"Chill out, princess!" she called back, shoving her feet into her flip-flops and heading out of her bedroom. "I'm coming!"

* * *

><p><em>Sam —<em>

_Not long after you and Dean left, Taryn came home saying that her cousin, Alexia Fisher was missing. Alexia was supposed to return to Utah after a two-week trip to England back on May 12, but she never checked-out of her hotel or boarded any of her flights. I asked your friend Bobby if he could get me in touch with anyone who could look into her disappearance and learned the following:_

_There was sulfur on the windowsill of her hotel room. Alexia must be possessed by a demon._

_I've included a picture of what she looks like on the off-chance that maybe you've seen her or will see her at some point. You said that a lot of demons escaped from that Devil's Gate, and it stands to reason that not all of them chose people to possess just here in part of the world, right? Some of them must have gone to other countries across the planet._

_Anyway, if you've seen Alexia or do see her, please try and save her. If she's already dead… Well, I'd like to know, whatever the news may be._

_Thanks,_

_Roxy_

Sam clicked on the attachment and let the picture load.

"Oh, _shit_," he said a moment later.

"What?" Dean said from across the motel room where he was eating one of his cheeseburgers with extra onions. "What is it?"

Sam took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, still staring at his computer screen. "We've got a problem," he said, gesturing to it.

Dean came across the room and leaned over Sam's shoulder, staring at the screen, too. "Wait," he said, righting himself a moment later. "Isn't that —?"

"Her name is Alexia Fisher," Sam said. "She's Taryn Fisher's cousin."

"Taryn, girlfriend of Dani's friend Roxy, Taryn?" Dean clarified.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Alexia went missing back in May, right around the time we were taking on the seven deadly sins."

"Timeline fits," Dean said quietly. "You said she looked familiar, didn't you?"

"I did," Sam said. "I never knew her, but she looks a lot like Taryn." He ran a hand through his hair roughly. "I should've realized."

"Hey," Dean placated, "it's not like she was being forthcoming about it, right?"

"Still," Sam said, "I could tell she was hiding something."

"Probably because she knew you'd react like this?" Dean suggested.

Sam scowled. "I need to call Bobby, see if he knows a demon-summoning ritual." He snagged his phone and took another look at the picture on his screen.

Ruby was going to have _a lot_ of questions to answer for this.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	8. Eight: Truths Laid Bare

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Eight: Truths Laid Bare**

**And now it's time for a demon to face the music. *grins* This was a fun chapter to write, and I really hope you all enjoy it. Just, please don't kill me when you reach the end of the chapter, okay?**

* * *

><p>"<em>You really think Taryn's gonna believe me when I say demons did it?"<em>

— _Danielle Palmer, "Journey: Live and Breathe"_

* * *

><p>According to Bobby, demon-summoning rituals only worked if you knew the demon's name (or at least, whatever name it was going by at the time), or if you had seen it at one time or another. Sam wasn't particularly worried about doing the ritual right.<p>

What he wanted to know was why Ruby had chosen this particular host. She wouldn't be able to say that she hadn't known who she was possessing, because Sam knew she'd been in Utah already, and she had told him repeatedly that she was doing everything she could to keep her body from being damaged. Broken arms were nothing compared to stabbing or torture.

_Or being thrown from the seventh floor of a warehouse,_ his mind reminded him unhelpfully of the girl Meg had possessed before they had sent her to Hell.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

Sam looked down at the table and nodded. He lit a match and dropped it in the middle bowl of their set-up, watching the herbs catch fire in a shower of bright sparks that lasted only a few seconds before going out.

Then they waited.

"What the fuck?"

Ruby had managed to materialize right inside the Devil's Trap Sam had taped to the floor of their motel room.

"I don't think that's the kind of language Alexia would use," Dean pointed out dryly, and Ruby stopped moving inside her confines, slowly turning Alexia's brown eyes on the brothers.

"Excuse me?" she said softly.

"Alexia Fisher," Sam said. "Cousin to Taryn Fisher who is girlfriend to Roxanne Parker who was best friend of Danielle Palmer, a psychic like me."

"Danielle opened the Devil's Gate," Ruby said. "Your point?"

"What were you doing clear out in London?" Sam asked. "And why Alexia?"

"You'd better answer," Dean said firmly, "or you're goin' straight back to Hell the way I've wanted since the get-go."

Sam watched as Ruby narrowed Alexia's eyes, body tense and fists clenched. "I'm from a little town called Dudley," she finally answered. "I had no idea where I was when I first came through the Gate, so I found some waitress at a diner in Cheyenne and got my bearings — and my fry addiction — before heading across the ocean."

"Why go to your home town?" asked Sam with a frown.

"I didn't think demons were the sentimental type," Dean added.

"We're not," Ruby said sharply. "Well, the rest aren't. I just… I wanted to know if my father had actually buried me or not. Most people were usually buried in mass graves back then with the plague goin' on, but I had an actual grave marker." She smiled slightly. "After that, I headed back across the ocean to find you and my trusty knife." She patted Alexia's thigh, where the demon-killing blade was still strapped firmly to her jeans.

"You knew who you were possessing, didn't you?" Sam said.

"Not at first," Ruby sighed. "I was using her laptop to learn more about these modern times and I came across her MySpace page."

"What's a MySpace?" Dean asked with a frown. "No one will tell me."

"Never mind," Sam said quickly. "But why didn't you give her up if you were so determined not to damage her?"

"I figured it out _after_ our first meeting," Ruby said with a scowl, "and by then she'd already been reported as missing. I tried to drop her off in an alley in Salt Lake City, but that's when I got cornered by those demons I told you about and received the broken arm." She looked down for a few seconds. "I think Taryn spotted me along with Alexia's mother."

Sam watched Ruby for a few seconds. "How do you expect me to trust you when you're in a body of a person whose disappearance affects others I know?"

"She's still alive!" Ruby said loudly. "Alive and fine! Her arm's healed and she's never been shot or stabbed —"

"What about mentally?" Dean cut in. "How is she doing with a _demon_ controlling her? Is she scarred for life because of what you are? Traumatized beyond belief by the things you've already done?"

"Shut up," Ruby said quietly. "I'm only doing what needs to be done so you two come out of this _alive_."

"Save it," Dean snapped before Sam could say anything. "There's nothing else that needs be said while you're still wearing that girl." He walked over, bent down and ripped a piece of the tape off the floor. "Don't expect either of us to listen to another word you have to say until you find something _without_ a life." He stepped away and glared at Ruby, who glared right back before vanishing.

"That was harsh," Sam said.

"Don't care," Dean replied. "I need a drink." He grabbed his keys, stuffed his wallet in his coat and headed for the door. "Coming?"

"No," Sam said. "Have fun, I guess."

Dean nodded and left the motel, the Impala roaring to life less than 30 seconds later. Sam sighed and slumped into his chair, looking over at his laptop and wondering if Alexia really was all right, or if Dean had been right on the mark. Rubbing at his face, he slid closer to the table and started writing out an email to Roxy, letting her know that he knew what had become of Taryn's cousin.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, things rarely go the way we expect.<p>

Nearly 900 miles south in Provo, Roxy was reading a book in the front room of her home when the doorbell rang. "Coming!" Taryn called out before Roxy could even get her bookmark in place. She closed her book and rose to her feet as Taryn sailed by, reaching the front door and pulling it open.

"Hey," said a female voice that Roxy swore she knew but couldn't place.

A few moments later, Taryn breathed, "Alexia?"

Roxy flew around the corner just in time to see Taryn pulling her missing cousin into her arms. "You're alive! Where have you been? How'd you get home! Oh, Lex, everyone's been so _worried_ about you —!"

Roxy froze as Taryn tried to pull Alexia into the house. Tried, and failed to get her cousin over the welcome mat other their side of the door. _Shit,_ Roxy's mind whispered.

"What —? Lexie —"

"I'm not Alexia," Taryn's cousin said quietly. "Well, not at the moment, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Taryn asked, stepping back and bumping into Roxy. "I don't understand…"

"She's not your cousin," Roxy said. "Who are you?" she directed at the girl.

Alexia gave Roxy a cold look before her eyes flashed black. "My name is Ruby," she answered. "I'm here to return Alexia's body."

Taryn screamed and tried to back away, but Roxy held her tightly. "You're a demon," Roxy spat out angrily. "Why should I believe a _word_ you say?"

Ruby groaned. "Because Sam and Dean _made_ me come here," she finally answered, sticking her hands out in supplication, eyes back to brown once more. "I swear I _tried_ to give her back a week ago, but I got cornered by other demons and had to run for it before Alexia could get more than a broken arm —"

"I saw you!" Taryn cried. "I knew it!"

Ruby rolled Alexia's eyes and scowled. The expression looked out of place on Taryn's normally-reserved cousin. In fact, her entire outfit looked out of place, from the tight jeans to the leather jacket and boots.

"Yes," Ruby said flatly. "You surely did, Taryn." She returned her gaze to Roxy. "Now, would you let me out so I can get outta this meatsuit and go find something dead to possess?"

Roxy raised her eyebrows as Taryn gasped out "Let you out of _what_?" in a high-pitched voice that made Roxy think her girlfriend might be on the verge of passing out.

"I still don't see why I should trust you," she finally said. "I'm told most every demon knows the Winchesters, and you must be fucking _insane_ if you expect me to believe that you're some kind of friendly demon. There's no such thing."

Ruby glared at Roxy. "Well, I _am_ friendly," she said shortly. "Call Sam if it makes you feel better, he'll confirm what I've said. Then you can have your precious goody-two shoes back and I can get on with my life."

Roxy stared at the demon for a long moment before reaching into her back pocket to pull out her phone. She selected Sam from her contacts and waited while the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Wanna tell me why I have a demon standing in my entryway?" Roxy asked dryly.

"Wait, Ruby's already there?"

"You _know_ her?"

"Yeah, she's helped me and Dean out a few times," Sam answered. "We told her to find a new body to inhabit, but I didn't expect her to give Alexia back until she'd already found something else."

Roxy stared at Ruby. "How has a demon _helped_ you?"

"She…" Sam sighed over the line. "She's saved our lives a couple times, delivered good intel, stuff like that."

Ruby crossed Alexia's arms and cocked her hip out in a way that Alexia would never have been able to pull off. "How can you trust her?" she finally asked. "She's a _demon_, you've taught me that they're chaotic and evil and shit!"

"Her emotions are _different_, Roxy," Sam said after a few seconds. "She's more human-like than any other demon I've come across."

Roxy pressed her lips together. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly. "I mean, if Dani could've fooled you with her emotions —"

"I'm sure," Sam cut her off, voice sharper than it had ever been in her presence. "Let her out of the Trap and she'll stop possessing Alexia, I promise you."

Roxy swallowed and looked back at the demon before her. "All right," she said softly. "Take care, Sam." She shut her phone and released her hold on Taryn.

"Believe me now?" Ruby asked sarcastically.

"Shut up," Roxy said, grabbing her butterfly knife from her purse on the entryway table and bending down to lift up a corner of the welcome mat. She opened her knife and sliced through an edge of the Devil's Trap drawn underneath. "Get out of Lex," she told the demon. "Don't ever come here again, you hear me?"

"Crystal clear," Ruby snarked before tipping Alexia's head back. Black smoke shot out of the redhead's mouth as Alexia screamed and zoomed out the still-open front door, vanishing into the evening light.

Alexia dropped to the floor like a stone. "Lexie!" Taryn shouted, shooting forward and dropping to her knees beside Roxy. "Oh God, please be all right…"

Roxy already had her fingers pressed to Alexia's pulse. "Heart's beating," she said softly, "and she's breathing. C'mon, let's get her to the couch."

Taryn nodded jerkily and helped move her cousin into the front room. Roxy returned to the front door, shutting it and locking it before turning the welcome mat over and glaring down at the cut she had made. "Gonna need a new mat," she muttered angrily, stalking into the kitchen to grab the large bag of rock salt she and Danielle had kept in supply for emergencies such as this. She dragged it back over the front door and laid out a salt line in a semi-circle that would still allow the door to swing open without breaking it. After returning the bag to the pantry before grabbing two glasses of water for Taryn and her cousin and heading back into the front room.

Alexia was still unconscious, Taryn sitting silently beside her with one of her hands clasped between her own. Roxy swallowed hard, setting the glasses down on the coffee table and taking a seat on the lazy boy adjacent to the couch.

There was nothing said for a very long time.

"How long have you been lying to me?" Taryn finally asked, voice devoid of all emotion.

Roxy swallowed hard. "About your cousin, or the fact that demons exist?"

"Either," Taryn said. "Both. All of it."

Roxy closed her eyes and prayed for courage. "I've known about demons since the end of November," she said quietly, opening her eyes and watching her girlfriend as she continued to gaze down at Alexia. "Danielle told me. She learned from the Winchesters maybe a month before that. I've only known that Alexia had been possessed by a demon since earlier this morning, but I didn't know which one until… well, until this."

"Seven months," Taryn said quietly. She slowly lifted her head and fixed her own brown eyes on Roxy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure you wouldn't think me and Dani were insane," Roxy said simply. "It took me _three days_ to believe Dani when she told me, and I didn't get to see any demon possessions or whatever as proof." She smiled sadly. "I had to take her word on it, and it was hard."

"I thought Catholics believed in demons," Taryn said.

"I stopped going to Mass when I was legally able to make my own decisions," Roxy said with a raised eyebrow. "Dani… she was always more religious than me."

Taryn nodded and looked back down at her cousin. "Tell me everything," she said. "How did Danielle learn about demons? What about Sam and Dean? Does Dani's family know? Am I the only one left out of the loop?"

Roxy blinked hard a few times. "I was trying to protect you."

"Like Dani protected you?" Taryn snapped, turning a glare on Roxy. "She always told you _everything,_ but you couldn't do the same with your own _girlfriend_? Do I _really_ mean that little to you?"

"No!" Roxy shouted desperately, and Alexia jerked slightly before stilling again. "Dani never wanted her family to know, either, but her dad got possessed by a demon, and the exorcism was loud enough to catch their attention. I refused to let Danielle back into my life completely until she explained the reasoning behind those _seven fucking months_ of shitty behavior, and then I almost didn't believe her when she told me the truth!" She rose and stared down at her love. "It is _hard_, knowing that there are demons and ghosts and werewolves and shapeshifters and all _kinds_ of monsters out there. It's hard, knowing that Sam and Dean _grew up_ learning to hunt and kill the things that go bump in the night. But the hardest thing is knowing that Danielle fucking _died_ believing that destiny is real, and I don't even know _why!_ She lost _Jared_ to this world, and then I lost _her_, so can you _really_ blame me for trying to protect the _one good thing_ I have left?"

The silence the followed Roxy's outburst hung between them heavily for several seconds before a sob forced its way out of Roxy's throat. She turned away, covering her face with her hands as she tried to keep it all together.

"I'm sorry," Taryn whispered. "I didn't know."

"You weren't supposed to ever know," Roxy replied, voice breaking.

"I'm getting that," Taryn chuckled wetly. "Do… d'you think maybe you could tell it all to me now, though?"

Roxy sniffed and nodded, forcing herself to turn back to the two redheads on the couch. Alexia was still out of it, but her face was peaceful.

Sinking back onto the lazy boy chair, Roxy took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Back in 1972, a yellow-eyed demon called Azazel possessed a priest and disemboweled eight nuns at St. Mary's convent in Ilchester, Maryland. We don't know what he trying to achieve, but he learned something that night that led to him finding couples across the country and making Deals with them."

"Deals?" Taryn echoed softly.

"Crossroads Deals," Roxy said, "like, straight out of _Faust_."

"The German legends?" Taryn said with a frown. "You get what you want, but after _x_ amount of years, the Devil claims your soul and you go to Hell for eternity?"

"You know about that?"

Taryn gestured to Alexia and called her a 'world mythology and folklore major' in a quiet voice. "That's part of why she was in London last month, for a symposium." She took a deep breath. "So, this Azazel guy, he claimed their souls?"

"Well," Roxy said, "Azazel wasn't claiming souls, not exactly." She went on to explain, by way of what had happened to Harry and Lydia Young, what Azazel was doing across the country. "Ten years later, Dani, Sam and a bunch of other kids were all born one month premature in either May or June of 1983. Six months after each child was born, Azazel visited them and fed them all a few drops of demon's blood."

That led to basics about the lives of Sam, Dean and their father after their mother's untimely death, and was followed by what had happened to Danielle. It never got any easier, thinking about how Jared had been taken from Danielle, nor about how difficult the following months had been before Sam and Dean had shown up, hunting down a powerful ghost who's best friend lived next door.

After that came the trip to Oregon, the month of lessons, Roxy's introduction to the world of the supernatural, the Winchesters second visit in January before Taryn moved in, and then she reached the part where Danielle had been taken by demons to join a sick game nearly a thousand miles away.

"Game?" Taryn prompted after a few seconds passed without Roxy saying anything.

"Azazel only needed one of them alive," she said softly, nodding at the horrified expression on Taryn's face. "It was a competition to see who the best was. Ava Wilson was that champion until Dani showed up."

"Danielle killed her?" Taryn whispered with wide eyes.

"That kill was in self-defense," Roxy couldn't help but defend her dead friend. "The other deaths after that…" She had to pause to keep herself from giving into the urge to cry. "Sam got taken there two days after Ava's death with three other psychics. Dani… she controlled a demon and made it kill the others before Sam learned the truth, and he tried to convince her to stop…" She scrubbed at her face. "Dean and Bobby showed up just in time to watch Dani stab Sam in the back, severing his spine and…" She couldn't stop her sob this time. "She kept going on about destiny and saving everyone else but herself and Sam _tried _to get her to stop —"

"But Sam's alive," Taryn broke in. "Sam's alive and Dani's dead. Roxy, what happened?"

Roxy sniffed and wiped away her tears. "Dean made a Deal," she finally answered. "He's going to Hell next year."

Taryn placed a hand over her mouth in shock. Roxy couldn't help the bubble of dark laughter that escaped. "I know," she said. "Azazel had Dani go to southern Wyoming where a Devil's Gate was kept under lock and key — the key was that gun I mentioned, the Colt — and she opened those doors and let over two-hundred demons free. Sam tried to get her to stop, but she — she said she _had_ to, and I don't know _why_!" Roxy pressed her lips together and blinked hard once again. "My best friend forced Sam to shoot her because there was no other way to make her stop, and then she died in his arms, talking about seeing Jared again and saying she had _fixed_ the fucking world like God had commanded her to or something, and all I get is a _fucking letter_ saying she had to break her promise and I'll understand _why_ someday —"

And with those words, the floodgates opened and Roxy lost herself in the sea of despair she'd been trying to stay afloat in since learning her best friend was dead. She felt Taryn's arms wrap around her and she clung to her lover tightly, sobbing into her chest as Taryn murmured soft words of comfort and love.

There was nothing fair about life, and Roxy had been a fool to think otherwise at any point. She wished, deep down in her heart that she could forget it all, that she could go back to those more innocent days where the most complicated thing in life was balancing her schoolwork in theater with her job to pay her portion of the monthly rent. But now there was a whole other layer to the world and everything was sharper and harder and five times as likely to bite you in the ass or burn you until there was nothing left and how did anyone actually _deal_ with any of it?

Roxy continued to sob, feeling only the slightest hint of happiness that Taryn was still there and wasn't letting go.

* * *

><p>Ruby showed up two days later.<p>

Sam instantly recognized her emotions when he first sensed her demonic presence, and as he approached the door of the latest motel room door (somewhere in Nevada), he realized that there was something different about Ruby this time.

He opened the door to see a blonde-haired girl with blue eyes and a scowl. "Jane Doe," she announced, "comatose, found in the subways of New York, taken off life support and thoroughly dead before I took up residence." Which meant Sam could only sense Ruby in that body, no suppressed soul to bother either of them. Ruby held up actual paperwork from the hospital the body had been in and stepped past Sam and into the room. "You so owe me fries for this."

Sam rolled his eyes and shut the door.

"Where's Dean?" Ruby asked, dropping onto the nearest bed.

"Somewhere getting drunk," Sam said, "most likely with a girl lookin' for a good time. Why are you here?"

"You didn't wanna see my new body?" Ruby asked with mock sadness. "I'm trying to play by your rules."

"Good for you," Sam dead-panned, walking past the demon to sit at the rickety table in the corner where his laptop was up and running. "I'm busy."

"Got a new job?" Ruby asked.

Sam glanced at Ruby. "Vengeful spirit down near Barstow," he finally answered. "We're heading there in the morning."

"Great," Ruby said. "Now, about those fries…"

"I don't owe you anything," Sam said simply. "You say you wanna help, but besides saving our lives once and helping to fix the Colt, you've yet to come through on helping me figure out who holds Dean's contract so I can kill them."

"Her," Ruby said. "But you already knew that. How was the Crossroads Demon you talked to? I bet she loves talking to you crazy Winchester boys."

"I sent her back to Hell," Sam said shortly. "But I know the demon that wants me dead is the same one who holds the contract. Got a name?"

"No," Ruby said.

"Then we have nothing left to talk about."

There was a moment of silence.

"I know about Dean's time trip," Ruby finally said.

Sam looked at the blonde and narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Dean's trip back in time," Ruby clarified, leaning back on her arms and smirking at Sam. "The trip that set Azazel's sights on your family and left it cursed."

"We're not cursed," Sam echoed Dean's words from what felt like years ago.

"Look," Ruby said, "I don't know when Dean's going back in time, and I don't know how, but I _do_ know that after Azazel fried your mom that he thought it was best to kill all her relatives so John wouldn't learn about the Colt any faster." Sam frowned and Ruby continued, "There's a library of journals, all written by the Campbells over the many, many years they've been Hunters, and one of them? He managed to get his hands on Samuel Colt's personal records. Azazel couldn't afford to let any knowledge of the magic gun of awesome get out before it was time to open the Devil's Gate in Wyoming."

"How do you know all this?" Sam finally asked.

Ruby shrugged. "Found Derrick, tortured him a little 'til he told me something useful, let him escape, that kind of thing." She grinned. "He wasn't too happy to learn that Tara was dead."

Sam snorted and turned away. "Good to know," he said. "Anything else you wanna tell me or are you leaving now?"

Ruby huffed and rose to her feet. "I'm trying to find out everything I can to help you," she said after a moment, "but you've gotta understand that every demon out there thinks I'm a traitor. It's going to be difficult to find out _any_ information about this demon you wanna kill until she _decides_ to let you know."

Sam nodded and kept his gaze on his computer screen as Ruby let herself out. She paused in the doorway. "Dean doesn't know about his _Back to the Future_ moment, does he?"

Sam shook his head and Ruby gave a short huff of a laugh. "Nice to see you're so open and trusting of your own flesh and blood." The door shut behind her before Sam could think to say anything in response. He groaned and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face and stretching as he considered what Ruby had said. He trusted Dean, right?

So why was he keeping secrets?

Unable to force himself to deal with these questions, Sam returned his attention to his laptop, pulling up his email to see a new message from Roxy. She reported in simple words that Alexia was awake, coherent, and mostly unaware of her time spent under possession. Taryn now knew the truth about Danielle and demons and the like, and that they were all dealing the best they could with everything that had happened.

So, Roxy was angry, Dean was probably drunk, and the clock was still ticking. Sam gave up on doing any more research and went to bed. The mess their lives had become was only getting worse, and Sam wasn't sure he could do a damn thing to fix it.

* * *

><p><em>Gordon —<em>

_The FBI agents have left Utah and returned to D.C. to work on other cases. We need to learn how to subdue a psychic like Sam, and according to that Brady kid, there's a drug out there that should do the trick. I'll send you any research I can dig up on the matter, but in the meantime, this is a list of Sam's known abilities. I think we're gonna need a more recent contact of his to confirm it, though:_

— _visions_

— _telekinesis_

— _super-strength_

— _electrokinesis_

— _mind control_

— _empathy_

_I'll review everything those agents learned in Utah, see if maybe one of the people they interviewed there is likely to have the answers to our questions. Let me know how things go in St. Louis, OK?_

— _Finn_

Gordon frowned thoughtfully as he shut down the computer in front of him and turned to his latest captive. "Now," he said, "you're _sure_ you never knew your friend was a psychic freak?"

Rebecca Warren glared at him. "One-hundred percent," she said shortly. "Sam never bent any spoons or predicted any disasters in the entire time that I knew him."

Gordon narrowed his eyes slightly. "I believe you," he finally said. "Sam does seem to be rather secretive."

Rebecca shrugged. "He never talked about his family or much of his life growing up. If he's got… _powers,_ or whatever, there's no way he would've talked about it." She tugged at the handcuffs strapping her to a chair in her own kitchen. "You done with the interrogation yet?" she asked.

Gordon chuckled. "You've got quite the attitude, _Little Becky._" Rebecca glared even harder at him. "Yes, I'm done." He set the key to the cuffs in Rebecca's left hand. "Have fun. Don't tell Sam we talked, or I'll be back and this" — he picked up his gun and waved it in her face — "will be more than just a prop to threaten you with. Do we understand each other?"

Rebecca nodded. "Get out of my apartment."

Gordon let himself out and headed for his car, pulling out his phone as he whistled lightly. It was time to gather the team back together. So much to do, so little time.

He pulled out a small device from his back pocket as he dialed Kubrick's number and pressed the button on it, still whistling as he put his phone to his ear.

A split second later, Rebecca Warren's apartment exploded. After all, it wasn't like he could _really_ expect one of Sam's friends to keep their mouth shut about an unexpected visit, right?

It never once occurred to the Hunter that he had crossed a line that he couldn't go back over again.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	9. Nine: Wake Up, Die, Repeat

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Nine: Wake Up, Die, Repeat**

**I figured it was probably best to upload this before bed since I'm looking at a fairly busy day tomorrow. Halloween, y'know? Anyway, this chapter draws pretty heavily from 3.11 "Mystery Spot". That's right, it's time to kill Dean a lot. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>I can't help but think that a lot of what's going on is out of your control."<em>

"_You have no idea."_

— _Victor Henricksen and Sam Winchester, "Journey: Somethin' to Hide"_

* * *

><p>Dean wasn't sure what he hated more, fires, or funerals. They were pretty entwined in his life, but this one bothered him.<p>

Who would want to blow up one of Sam's college friends?

According to the coroner's report, she had been handcuffed to a chair and her skull had shown evidence of heavy, blunt force trauma. The police report said there was evidence of forced entry to her apartment, as well. But who did it and why?

"It had to be a human attack," Dean told Bobby over the phone the night before the funeral. Sam wasn't exactly up to going over the details of the death of one of his close friends from his one shot at 'normal' life. "The question is —?"

"Who would blow up a college student," Bobby finished for him grimly. "What about those Hunters you said came after you and Jo, lookin' for Sam back in New York?"

"I don't know," Dean sighed. "They didn't seem the type to kill innocent people."

"Can you think of anyone who could go that far?" Bobby asked.

Dean considered for a long moment. "Maybe someone like Gordon Walker," he finally said, "but the man's in prison for another twenty years _at least_, and I'm still not entirely convinced he would actually go that far."

"He _did_ kill his sister," Bobby pointed out.

"She was a _vampire_," Dean returned. "Becky was completely human. Like I said, though, Gordon's in prison, and I can't think of anyone else who came close enough to learning the truth besides him."

"All right," Bobby said after a moment. "How's Sam doin'?"

Dean glanced across the motel room. Sam was zonked out on his bed, laptop still open on his stomach. "I gave him sleeping pills," he finally answered. "Kid seems to think that sleep is for the weak or something. Why can't we catch a break, Bobby?"

"I wish I knew, son," Bobby replied sadly. "I wish I knew."

The funeral was almost as difficult as Jessica's had been nearly two years ago, only this time Sam didn't really mingle with anyone. Becky and her brother Zach had been the only people from Stanford who knew anything about the supernatural, and everyone else who came hadn't seen Sam since Jessica's death. Still, somehow, Sam managed to handle the entire affair with a somber, but strong deference out of respect to his friend.

After that, however, Sam threw himself back into Hunting with fervor that was all-too-similar to the first few months after Jess had died. June quickly passed into July, and Dean felt lucky to get Sam to slow down long enough to buy a crate-full of fireworks on Independence Day and set them all off in a clearing in Nebraska. "Just like that one time in '96," Sam had said quietly, watching them go off with a small smile. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean had only smiled in reply. They spent the rest of the night sitting on the Impala's hood, watching the clear, starry night. Neither one said a single word for hours. It was a good night, one of the best Dean had had in a long time, and Hunting continued with little mishap thereafter for the next three weeks.

Then they went to the Broward County Mystery Spot and Sam changed overnight.

* * *

><p>It started out like a regular Tuesday on the job.<p>

"_Heat of the moment!"_

Sam's eyes snapped open and he sat up, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand between his and Dean's beds. Dean was already up and dressed, tying the laces on his right boot, head bouncing along to Asia's _Heat of the Moment_.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" he crowed, looking like a hyper five-year-old on too much sugar.

"Dude," Sam said, "Asia?"

"Come on," Dean said with a bright grin, "you love this song and you know it!"

"Yeah," Sam said sarcastically, "and if I ever hear it again I'm gonna kill myself."

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam mentally shut off the alarm clock and got out of bed. "You're no fun," he told Sam, finishing up his boot and heading for the bathroom sink. Sam snorted and quickly got dressed, joining his brother at the sink to brush his teeth and run a comb through his hair really fast. Then they went out on foot for a diner located five blocks away, chatting amiably about nothing in particular.

It was your typical American diner, too. The cashier was giving an old man some change as the brothers entered, warning him to "drive safely now, Mr. Pickett!"

"Yeah, yeah," the man grumbled as he ambled out of the diner.

"Order up!" shouted the cook from the back.

There were three patrons sitting at the bar, and a waitress with the nametag 'Doris' was speaking to the youngest of the three men, telling him he couldn't stay unless he ordered something. Dean bypassed all the three men and took a seat at a booth, Sam sliding in across from him.

"Hey, Tuesday," Dean said, pointing at the sign listing the specials. "Pig 'n a poke."

"Do you even know what that is?" Sam asked with mild distaste.

"Just because you have the taste buds of a worm doesn't mean I can't appreciate the finer things in life," Dean retorted flippantly. Sam was saved from having to think of a reply when Doris the waitress walked up. She was clearly the older, motherly type, but she had a warm smile and happy disposition.

"Are you boys ready?" she asked, pad and pen out and ready.

"I'll have the special," Dean said, "side of bacon and a coffee."

"Make it two coffee's and a short stack," Sam added.

"You got it," Doris said, smiling again and walking away.

"So, why are we here again?" Dean finally asked.

"This professor named Dexter Hasselback was passing through town last week when he vanished," Sam answered with a sigh. "I told you yesterday."

"Right," Dean said, "but we care why?"

"Because his last known location was the Broward County Mystery Spot," Sam replied. He held out a pamphlet for the place and Dean took it, staring down at it with a faint frown.

"'Where the laws of physics have no meaning'?" He gave Sam a 'give me a break' look, but Doris came over before Sam could reply once again.

"Okay," she said, "two coffees, black…"

"Thank you," Dean said at once with one of his more charming smiles.

"And some hot sauce for the —"

The tray tipped and the bottle of hot sauce smashed into the ground.

"Oh!" Doris exclaimed. "Whoops! Crap." She looked up at the brothers and said "Sorry," before turning and belting out, "Clean up!"

Sam glanced at Dean, who raised his eyebrows and sipped his coffee in silence.

After they ate, they started heading back down towards their motel, a dog tethered to a bike rack barking at them as they passed by.

"Sam," Dean finally said, "you know joints like this are only tourist traps right? I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling. The only danger is to your wallet."

"Yeah, I know," Sam said, "but there _are_ some places in the world where holes open up and swallow people, like uh, the Bermuda Triangle, the Oregon Vortex —"

"And the Broward County Mystery Spot?" Dean said dubiously. "Seriously, Sam?"

"Some of these places are legit," Sam defended.

"Okay," Dean said, "so if it is — and that's a _big_ fucking 'if' — then what's the lore?"

"Well —" Sam broke off as a girl walking in the opposite direction accidentally bumped shoulders with Dean.

"Excuse me," she said quickly and was gone.

"The lore's pretty freakin' nuts, actually," Sam finally said. "They say in these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend space-time, sending victims to God knows where."

"Right," Dean said. "Sounds a little _X-Files_ to me."

Sam rolled his eyes.

The brothers passed two moving men trying to get a large desk through a not-so-large doorway.

"I told you it wouldn't fit!" one of the men said to the other.

"What d'you want?" the second man snapped. "A Pulitzer?"

"Whatever," Sam finally said, "just — look, I'm not saying it's really happening, but if it is, then we've gotta check it out and see if we can do anything."

"All right," Dean said, sounding very put-upon, "we'll go there after it closes, get ourselves a nice long look."

That night, they quietly broke into the building. It was everything that Dean had said and worse.

"Wow, uncanny," Dean said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he eyed a table that had been nailed to the ceiling. "Anything?"

The EMF reader in Sam's hand didn't even light up at all. "No," he said.

"Do we even know what we're looking for?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Sam snapped. Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically and Sam sighed. "No."

"Then I think we can call this one a bust," Dean stated. "Let's go."

"Fi- wait, there's someone coming," Sam quickly said, sensing another presence in the building. They started to head for the nearest exit —

"What are you doing here?" called out a man's voice. Sam and Dean turned to see a man holding a shotgun. Dean had pulled out his handgun, but quickly pointed it up and away when they realized the man was just a civilian.

"Are you tryin' to rob me?" the man asked, hands shaking.

"Hey," Sam said, "it's okay, please just calm down, we're leaving. No one's robbing anybody, I promise you."

Dean slowly lowered his gun.

"Don't move!" the man shouted.

"I'm just putting it down," Dean said carefully, "that's all." He continued, but the man's nervousness and shakiness became too much. Before Sam could react, the shotgun went off and Dean was thrown backwards onto the floor.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, dropping to the floor and practically crawling over to his brother. "Oh, no," he whispered, already feeling Dean start to slip away the way Danielle had and this _couldn't_ be happening, not now, not so soon!

"I'm sorry," the man stuttered.

"Dean," Sam whispered, pressing down on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, even though he knew it was too late. "Call 9-1-1," he ordered the man, who followed at once, driven by the force of Sam's power. "Dean, you gotta hang on," Sam told his brother. "I should've made him put the gun down, I'm so sorry, Dean hang on …"

Dean's struggling breaths stopped and his presence faded away.

"Dean…" Sam closed his eyes and buried his face against Dean's neck.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Sam's eyes snapped open and he sat up in his bed.

Wait, _sat up_ in his _bed_?

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Dean.

Dean was alive.

Dean was alive?

Sam gaped at Dean as he tied the laces on his right boot and then looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand between their beds.

"Dude," Dean said. "Asia."

Sam gaped at Dean some more.

"Dean…" he finally managed to choke out.

"Oh, come on," Dean said, sounding bright and happy, "you love this song and you _know_ it!" He started mouthing along to the words of the song's chorus, finishing his bootlaces while bouncing his head in time with the music and pointing at Sam before getting to his feet and bounding away, head still bopping. He was in a very good mood today.

Sam watched him go and looked around in confusion before forcing himself out of bed and into clean clothes.

He watched Dean as he brushed his teeth, gargled for nearly a minute and then spit into the sink. Didn't he do that yesterday? Wasn't he _dead_ yesterday?

"What?" Dean asked, and Sam realized he'd been staring.

"I don't know," he said.

"You all right?" Dean asked with a faint frown of concern.

"No," Sam said. "I think I… man, I had a _weird_ dream."

Dean nodded knowingly. "Clowns or midgets?"

Sam glared, but his heart wasn't really in it.

A few minutes later, they headed out for a diner located five blocks away, but didn't they do that yesterday?

"Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett!"

"Yeah, yeah," the old man replied, passing Sam and Dean as they entered the diner.

"Order up!"

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal, you know the rules."

The youngest of the three men at the bar pushed some change at Doris and asked for coffee. Dean seated himself in the same booth as before (but there wasn't a before, was there?) and Sam took the seat across from him.

"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke!"

Sam stared at Dean. "It's Tuesday?" But it'd been Tuesday yesterday, right?

"Yeah," Dean said with a slight frown.

"Are you boys ready?"

Dean ordered the special with a side of bacon and black coffee. "Nothing for me, thanks," Sam quickly said.

"Lemme know if you change your mind," Doris told him before walking away.

"So, why are we here again?" Dean asked after a second.

Sam didn't say anything, too distracted by how _familiar_ everything was, but they'd never been here before, so why —?

"Sam!" Dean's fingers snapped in Sam's face, attracting his attention.

"What?" Sam said, blinking.

"You sure you feel okay?" Dean asked.

"You don't…" Sam had never felt so completely bewildered. "You don't remember any of this?"

"Remember what?" asked Dean.

"This," Sam said, gesturing to everything. "Today, like — like it's _happened_ before."

Dean blinked. "You mean like déjà vu?"

"No," Sam said. "I mean like it's _really_ happened before."

"Like déjà vu," Dean repeated slowly, and Sam felt his temper shoot up.

"No, forget about déjà vu," he snapped. "Didn't we already live through today? Doesn't it feel like we're living it all over again?"

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment. "Okay, how is that not —?"

"Don't," Sam cut him off sharply. "Don't fucking say it —"

"Okay," came Doris' voice as she came over with a small tray. "Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for —"

The trap tipped and Sam's hand shot out, catching the bottle before it could smash on the floor.

"Oh, crap!" Then Doris realized what had happened as Sam set the bottle on the table. "Thanks!" she said brightly to him before walking away.

"Nice reflexes," Dean said.

Sam just felt even more confused.

* * *

><p>Dog barking as they walked back in the direction they'd come from. Girl bumping into Dean with a hurried apology. Two moving men trying to fit a too-large desk through a not-so-large door. <em>I remember all of this,<em> Sam thought, trying hard to stem his panic. _What's going on?_

"Sam," Dean said as all these various, everyday things happened again, "I really don't get what you're talking about, I'm sorry."

"Look," Sam returned, "yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday, too!"

Dean's eyes widened. "Yeah, no, good, you're _totally_ balanced."

Sam groaned in frustration. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm just saying that it's crazy," Dean said. "You know, like Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy. Are you sure it wasn't a vision?"

"I don't get visions any more," Sam replied. "And it was way too vivid, too… too _real_ to be anything like that." She ran a hand through his hair. "Look, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then —" He broke off.

"Then?" Dean prompted after a few seconds.

_You died, Dean._

"I woke up." Sam's thoughts raced. "I really think we need to check that place out."

"Seriously?"

"Just — just go with me on this, okay?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "So, let's go there after it closes, then —"

"No!" Sam shouted in a panic as the reached the street corner. "Let's just — we'll go there now, business hours, nice and crowded."

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment. "My _God_, you're a freak," he finally said, turning to walk away.

It was probably the words that kept Sam from moving after his brother right away.

The last year had helped Sam to reconcile his age-old hatred of the word 'freak' with the fact that was pretty much was a freak. No amount of normal life or sticking his head in the sand could change that. Dean had been exceptionally vocal during that time in saying that Sam wasn't a freak despite all evidence to the contrary, and Sam had appreciated it more than he could ever express (not that Dean would ever let him). Dean wasn't afraid of him, even if his abilities had weirded him out a lot at first, but even though he knew his brother (probably) didn't mean the word in the same way that Sam felt it cut into him, it didn't change the fact that he hadn't called Sam a freak at all since before L.A.

Of course, Dean hadn't been the same since Cold Oak. Neither of them had.

Sam swallowed hard and turned to follow Dean, shoving the reawakened pain of being so fucking _different_ down deep where it couldn't hurt him again and —

_WHAM!_

A car came out of nowhere and hit Dean straight on. Sam ducked away as the car tires squealed to a stop, and then he was running towards Dean's crumpled figure on the ground.

_No, no, no!_

"Dean!" Sam shouted, barely taking in old Mr. Pickett's face as he looked out of the window of the driver's seat as he dropped to his brother's side. "Oh, God, no, not again, this can't happen again —"

"_Heat of the moment!"_

Sam's eyes snapped open.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

It couldn't be.

But it was. Dean was alive. Sam sat up and stared at the alarm clock.

T-U-E

It was Tuesday all over again.

* * *

><p>Sam tried very hard to explain it to his brother, but Dean didn't remember any of it. He <em>really <em>had no idea that he'd already died two times.

"Dean," he said as they sat in the diner, "would you please listen to me? I am seriously _flipping out_."

Doris walked up to their booth.

"Are you boys ready?"

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee black, and nothing for me, thanks," Sam reeled off at once.

"You got it." Doris walked away.

"Sammy," Dean teased, "I get all tingly when you take control like that."

"Quick fucking around, Dean," Sam snapped.

Dean raised his hands defensively. "Wow, okay. So, you said you think you're what, stuck in a —?"

"A time loop," Sam said.

"Like _Groundhog Day_?"

"_Exactly_ like that."

Dean was amused and not quite believing.

"Why don't you believe me?" Sam asked, starting to feel desperate.

"It just sounds crazy," Dean said. "You know, like —"

"Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy?" Sam quickly finished.

Dean blinked. "How'd you know I was gonna say that? You don't read minds."

"You've said it before," Sam replied testily, "that's my whole point."

Doris came over with the tray, setting down the coffee. The tray tilted, the hot sauce fell off —

"Crap!" Only Sam caught it once again. "Thanks!" Doris said before walking away.

"Nice reflexes," Dean said.

"No," Sam snapped, "I already knew it was gonna happen."

Dean frowned. "Okay, well there's gotta be some reasonable explanation —"

"There _isn't_, Dean!" Sam barely kept from shouting. "You've just gotta go with me on this, okay? You have to, you owe me that much!"

"Cam down —"

"Don't you _fucking_ tell me to calm the fuck down, Dean," Sam practically hissed in frustration. "I can't calm down! I can't because —" He broke off, throat closing over the words.

There was a moment of silence. "Because what?" Dean finally asked in a much quieter voice.

Sam looked at his brother, feeling a sharp edge of hopelessness start to overtake him. "Because you die today, Dean."

Dean still didn't believe him. "I'm not gonna die," he said. "Not today."

"It's already happened _twice_ now," Sam responded. "Two times, and I can't stop it, and I can't watch you die again, okay? You're just gonna have to believe me. _Please_."

Dean's doubt melted into concern on a level Sam hadn't felt since the night that Djinn had taken Dean and managed to wedge a crack into what had been a stable relationship. Well, as stable as a Winchester could manage, anyway. "All right," he sighed. "I don't know if I — look, we'll figure this out, okay?"

But they didn't. Sam kept Dean from being hit by Mr. Pickett's car, told him how he'd died those two times. Then they went to the Mystery Spot during operating hours, but it quickly became apparent that the place was a total hoax.

Dean suggested they get some take-out and lay low at the motel until the day ended as they walked back towards the diner —

_BAM!_

The large desk Sam had seen the two moving men try to get inside had been hoisted up on a rope. One of the men stood before Sam, the rope in his hands. The other guy stuck his head out the second-story window and stared at the frayed rope the desk had been attached to.

Dean was under that desk.

He was dead.

"_Heat of the moment!"_

Sam opened his eyes and stared miserably at the ceiling of the motel room.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

But Sam refused to even sit up. He covered his face with his hands and tried his best not to completely break down.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Dean choked on the sausage he ordered to replace his bacon in the diner.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Dean slipped in the shower after Sam said they couldn't leave the motel room.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

They ordered in. "Do these tacos taste funny to you?" Dean asked.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

The outlet Dean plugged his razor into short-circuited and he was electrocuted.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Sam went back to the Mystery Spot and started tearing the place down with an axe. Dean tried to stop him. Dean got axed.

"Dean? Oh, no…"

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Dean tripped down the motel stairs and broke his neck.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Sam tried burning down the Mystery Spot. Dean got caught in the blaze and burned.

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

Doris practiced her archery and missed. Badly.

* * *

><p>Sam morosely followed Dean into the diner, bumping into Mr. Pickett as he left the diner.<p>

"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a Poke."

Sam didn't care. He dropped Mr. Pickett's keys on the table. Dean frowned.

"Who's are those?"

"The old man's," Sam replied. "Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel."

Dean blinked in confusion as Doris walked up. "Are you boys ready?" she asked.

Dean ordered the same thing he always did.

"Hey, Doris," Sam said, sitting up just a little bit straighter. "What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot."

"How'd you know?" Doris asked with wide, surprised eyes.

"Lucky guess," Sam said dryly. Doris walked away.

"Okay," Dean finally said, "so you think you're caught in some kind of what again?"

"Time loop," Sam said dully.

"Like _Groundhog Day_."

"It doesn't matter," Sam sighed, "there's no way to stop it."

Dean pulled back, face scrunched in confusion. "Jeez, aren't you grumpy?"

"Yeah," Sam said, glaring at Dean. "I am. You wanna know why?"

Dean felt uncertain, but he asked, "Why?" anyway.

"Because I have lived through over a _hundred_ Tuesdays, Dean, and it _never_ stops. Ever. So yeah, I'm a little grumpy."

Dean looked even more confused.

"Hot sauce," Sam sighed.

"What?"

Doris walked over with the tray, set down the coffee and started to panic as the tray tilted. Sam caught the bottle without even looking and set it down on the table. "Thanks!"

"Nice reflexes —" Dean started.

"I knew it was gonna happen, Dean," Sam cut him off. "I know _everything_ that's gonna happen."

Dean's expression turned skeptical. "You don't know everything," he said.

"Yeah, I do," Sam replied.

"Yeah, right," Dean said, but Sam said at the exactly same time, immediately followed by, "Nice guess."

"It wasn't a guess," Sam told Dean snidely. So, of course Dean got childish, and Sam just followed the script, word for word.

"Right, so now you can read minds instead of just emotions." Dean frowned. "Cut it out, Sam!" He glared at Sam. "You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish." Dean leaned across the table and Sam just followed him. "Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he —"

"Okay, enough!" Dean finally snapped, pulling away while looking a little disgusted and a lot confused.

"That's not all," Sam said. "Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register."

Sam watched Dean's eyes go to the other end of the diner and he frowned, obviously seeing that Sam was right. Sam leaned forward again and nodded at the oldest man at their end of the diner who was sitting at the bar. "Judge Myers? At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit."

The Judge dropped the drink in his hand, having heard what Sam said. Dean's expression became more confused as Sam nodded at the youngest man with the bits of change. "Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home."

"Sam," Dean said slowly, "what's your point?"

"My point," Sam said sharply, "is that I have been through every possible Tuesday in every possible way. I have _ripped apart_ the Mystery Spot, burned it down, tried everything I know to _save your life_, and I _can't._ No matter _what_ I do, you die." He slumped in his seat. "And then I wake up." He met Dean's eyes sadly. "And then it's Tuesday. Again."

This time through Tuesday, Dean actually stopped the girl who kept bumping into him and discovered she was the daughter of that missing professor. Dean got mauled by the dog on the sidewalk and died again, so Sam started to get his research in.

"Okay, so, this professor liked going to places like the Mystery Spot and debunking them," he told Dean at the diner four or five Tuesdays later. It was starting to blend into one long stream of consciousness and Sam was fucking _exhausted_. "Here's the blog he writes." He turned his laptop to face Dean.

"Let's see… 'Dexter Hasselbeck: Truth Warrior'?" Dean snorted. "More like a pompous schmuck if you ask me."

"He really was," Sam said. "I read all of his stuff, he's so full of himself he must've weighed a ton."

"When'd you find time to do all this research?" Dean asked. Sam ignored the question, putting his laptop away and sliding out of the booth.

"C'mon," he said. Dean rose as well, chuckling. "What?"

"It's just — it's funny, y'know? Guy spends his life crapping on Mystery Spots, and then he vanishes in one. It's kinda… poetic, y'know? Like just desserts."

A fissure of possibility wormed into Sam's brain. "You're right," he said slowly. He turned just as the other guy at the bar got up and left the diner. Sam froze.

That wasn't maple syrup.

It was strawberry.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Over a hundred Tuesdays and the man suddenly has strawberry syrup instead of maple?" Sam said incredulously.

"So?" Dean asked. "A guy can't suddenly have different syrup? It's a free country."

"Shut up," Sam sighed. "Nothing changes here, ever." He looked out the window and watched the man walk out of sight. "Except me."

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	10. Ten: Six Months

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Ten: Six Months**

**Time for more of "Mystery Spot"! Again, some dialogue comes from the episode, while some things are more... inspired by it, I guess. Whatever. It was saddening to write some of the things I did, but what comes next is part of what makes "Mystery Spot" one of my favorite episodes. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>You killed two people and traumatized a third."<em>

"_Oh, come on! Those dicks had it comin' to 'em!"_

"_Still doesn't make it right."_

"_Who ever said anything about right?"_

—_Sam Winchester and Loki the Trickster, "Journey: Gone Crazy"_

* * *

><p>"<em>Heat of the moment!"<em>

The alarm clock went off and Sam slowly sat up in bed. Dean grinned at him as he tied the laces on his right boot. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" he hollered gleefully over the loud music.

Sam stared at him, looking confused for a moment.

"Dude," Dean said to him, nodding at the alarm, which was still blasting away loudly. "Asia." He grinned some more.

"I know what it is, Dean," Sam sniped with his usual bitchface, only it didn't last. He looked away, but Dean caught a glint of something like… determination? _Huh_.

Dean shrugged it off and mouthed along to the chorus of _Heat of the Moment_, heading for the bathroom while continuing to bob his head in time with the music until it snapped off. He looked across the room, but Sam was busy getting dressed.

"Cheater," he said, but Sam ignored him. _Whatever_. Dean turned away and started brushing his teeth.

Twenty minutes later they set out to walk to a diner Dean had spotted on their way into town the day before. It was about five blocks away from their motel, but it was a nice, bright sunny day, so there really was no need to take the car.

_Sorry, Baby. Maybe we'll go out for a drive later._

Dean tried making small talk with his brother, but Sam only spoke long enough to give details on the missing professor they were going to try and find before his mind was up in the clouds. It didn't seem to be coming back down anytime soon, either. Dean scowled and continued to the diner in silence. Sam bumped into an old man leaving the diner as they entered, and Dean caught a flash of metal as he dropped something in his hand into the trashcan. Had those been keys?

Dean began to wonder what was up with his brother as he picked out a booth. Sam slid into the seat across from him and set his eyes on a middle-aged man eating pancakes with syrup at the bar.

_Weird_. Dean looked up at a board listing the diner's specials. "Hey, Tuesday," he said with a grin. "Pig 'n a Poke." He looked over at his brother, fully expecting some kind of exasperated reaction.

Sam didn't reply.

"Sam, what's up with you?" Dean asked him, worry overtaking his annoyance.

"Just another day of being caught up in my time loop," Sam responded absently.

What the fuck was _that_ supposed to mean?

"What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"Like _Groundhog Day,_" Sam said, barely even glancing at his brother. "It's been Tuesday over and over and you die every time."

A middle-aged waitress bearing the nametag 'Doris' walked up to their table. "Are you boys ready?"

"Yeah," Dean said with another glance at his insane brother, "I'll have the special, side of bacon, and coffee, black."

"Nothing for me, thanks," Sam said, still watching the guy with the pancakes.

"Lemme know if you change your mind," Doris said before walking off.

Dean watched Sam silently, still feeling really confused. Why would Sam be talking about being stuck in a situation like _Groundhog Day_? And what did he mean that Dean died?

Doris returned with a small tray in one hand with Dean's coffee and a bottle of hot sauce. "Coffee, black —"

"Thank you," Dean said.

"And some hot sauce for — oh! Crap!"

The tray had tilted, sending the bottle towards the ground, but Sam's hand shot out and caught it, setting it on the table. He never once looked away from the man.

"Thanks," Doris said before walking away.

"Nice reflexes," Dean commented.

Sam ignored him some more.

Doris returned with Dean's food, which he enjoyed well enough, but Sam's weird behavior kept distracting him. Why was he watching that guy?

"So," Dean finally decided to try, "you think you're caught in some kind of what again?"

"Eat your breakfast," Sam said, not even sparing him a glance.

A moment later, the man his brother had been eyeballing stood up and left the diner. Sam pulled a bag out from his jacket and rose, as well.

"What's in the bag?" Dean asked, but Sam, once again, didn't reply. Instead, he started to head out of the diner, and Dean began to think he was following that guy like some kind of creepy stalker. _What the hell?_ Grabbing some money from his wallet and throwing it on the table, Dean rose and quickly followed Sam out of the diner.

He caught up just as Sam grabbed the man by the shoulder and slammed him against the fence. "Hey!" the man cried out. "Hey!"

Dean was surprised to see that Sam's bag had been holding a wooden stake with blood on the end. He held it up to the man's neck.

"I know who you are," Sam said to the man, "or should I say _what_?" Dean wasn't sure he'd ever heard Sam sound so angry outside of some of his worst arguments with their father as a teenager.

"Oh God," the man gasped, "please don't kill me."

"Sam?" Dean asked, but Sam continued to ignore him

"It took me a long time to put it all together," he practically snarled at the man, "but I finally got it and it's pissing me off that it didn't occur to me sooner."

"What?" The man sounded terrified, trying to lean away from the stake in Sam's hand.

"It's your M.O. that gave you away," Sam said shortly. "Going after pompous jerks and giving them their just desserts? Your kind just _loves_ doing that, don't they?"

"My kind?" the man echoed, voice pitching higher as he continued to panic. "Look, man, my name's Ed Coleman, my wife's Amelia, I have two kids!"

"You're lying!" Sam shouted. "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing, making reality outta nothing, sticking people in time loops! You'd pretty much have to be a _God_, or at least a trickster." A trickster? Seriously? "Only a trickster would make me forget to use my abilities to figure it all out."

"Abilities? God, I sell ad space!" Ed cried. "_Please_ just put the stake down!"

"No," Sam said. "I know what you are, I can _feel _the difference! We've _killed_ one of your kind before!"

Ed Coleman froze, and then he wasn't Ed anymore.

It was the same Trickster they had dealt with before. Loki.

"Actually, bucko," Loki said with a grin, "you didn't."

_What the fuck?_

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked, voice hard, but still managing to sound brittle in a way Dean hadn't heard since Jess had been killed.

"You're joking, right?" the Trickster asked. "Your brother tried to _kill_ me last time! Why _wouldn't_ I do this?"

Sam looked close to snapping. In fact, Dean suddenly noticed that Sam looked _a lot_ more tired than he had the day before. "So, what about Hasselbeck?" Dean finally forced himself to speak.

"He said he didn't believe in wormholes," Loki answered, "so I dropped him in one." He grinned brightly up at Sam and Dean with a short burst of laughter, clearly thinking that they should be amused by what he had done to the man. "Then you guys showed up. I made you the _second_ you hit town."

"So this is _fun_ for you?" Sam asked, grip tightening on the stake in his hand. "Killing Dean over and over?"

Sam was really serious about that, Dean suddenly realized.

"Okay," Loki said. "One: Yes, it is fun. And two: this is _so_ not about killing Dean. This joke is on _you,_ Sam. Watching your brother die every day. _Forever_."

Sam's jaw worked. "You sonuvabitch," he said in a low voice that Dean knew betrayed just how angry he was.

"How long will it take you to realize," Loki said, "you can't save your brother no matter what?"

"If I kill you," Sam replied, "then at least I'll have a real chance." He lifted the stake slightly to drive it into Loki's neck.

"Whoa, hang on!" Loki said quickly. "I was just playing! You can't take a joke? Fine, you're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear it."

Dean watched as Sam stared at the demi-god.

"You're lying," he said. "You're not done."

Loki narrowed his eyes at Sam for a moment before grinning.

"You're right," he said. "I'm not." Then he snapped his fingers and everything went black.

* * *

><p>"<em>We're gonna go back in time!"<em>

Sam opened his eyes and sat up. Dean was over at the sink, spitting into it, apparently having finished brushing his teeth. He rose up and spotted Sam. "You gonna sleep all day?" he said with far less cheer than he had during the never-ending stream of Tuesday.

Wait. Sam blinked and turned to look at the alarm clock.

_W-E-D_

"It's Wednesday?" he asked, feeling shocked.

Dean stepped away from the sink. "Yeah," he said. "Wednesday, which usually follows Tuesday."

Sam didn't understand. Loki had _said_ he wasn't done, hadn't he? "No Asia," Sam said stupidly, still trying to process everything.

"I know," Dean said glumly. "This station sucks. Turn it off, would you?"

"No," Sam said, "I think this is the best music I've ever heard. Haven't you heard anything so wonderful?"

Dean stared at him, emotions tilting between weirded-out and worry. "Okay, dude… how many Tuesdays did you have?"

"I don't know," Sam said, getting out of bed. "I lost track." He frowned. "Wait, what d'you remember?"

Dean considered for a moment. "You were pretty whacked out of it yesterday," he finally said. "And Loki, the Trickster, we ran into him, but… that's about it." He shrugged.

Sam nodded and quickly started changing. "We're leaving," he said.

"What?"

"Pack your stuff," Sam ordered, not caring that he was being a douche and using his powers on his brother when he pretty much never did. "We're getting the hell outta here."

Dean headed for his bags. "No breakfast?" he asked.

"No," Sam said. "No breakfast."

Dean was done before Sam and headed outside to pack up the Impala and check out. Sam was shoving the last of things into his duffel when he heard a gunshot.

Dread froze his insides. "No," he whispered, dropping his things and running out of the room and down the stairs to the parking lot. He caught sight of Cal as he ran away before he spotted Dean.

He'd been shot. He was dying. "Oh, God, no!"

Loki really _wasn't_ done. Sam pulled Dean close, closed his eyes and waited.

Nothing happened. He was still here, still holding Dean.

"No," Sam whispered, "no, not again, it's not Tuesday, Dean, please hang on…"

He already knew it was no use. He pulled back slightly, watching the light fade from his brother's eyes and felt tears escape from his own.

"DEAN!" he screamed out with a broken sob. "I'm supposed to wake up…"

* * *

><p>Sam learned a lot about himself during the following six months after Dean's death. He didn't like what he learned, but he used it to his advantage. After all, what good were things like a conscience or morals when there was nothing to live for? The thought that he was worse than his father crossed his mind once, but he pushed it away. Dean was dead, in Hell for the rest of eternity, and Loki was responsible.<p>

Nothing else mattered except finding the demi-god. _Nothing._

Sam burned Dean's body that first night on the outskirts of the small town. Thursday found him tracking leads on Loki. Same with Friday, Saturday, Sunday and the following Monday. Bobby called him, tried to get him to come back to Sioux Falls so he, Ellen and Jo could help him, but Sam refused. The darkest corners of his mind demanded he do this on his own.

When leads on Loki were dry, Sam found other things to hunt down. He destroyed a poltergeist in Nebraska at the request of Missouri Mosely in early August. She tried to talk to Sam after telling him about the job, but he didn't have time for small-talk, and he _certainly_ didn't have time for a psychic, however well-meaning, to tell him he was going to go off the deep end at the rate he was going. "I'm fine on my own, Missouri," he told her firmly before ending the call. The poltergeist tried everything in its arsenal to stop Sam from banishing it, but Sam retaliated with his own psychic abilities and cleansed the house of its presence.

There was a vampire nest in Austin that he took out all on his own by setting fire to their hideout and then decapitating any vamps that escaped the blaze. There had been fifteen vamps in that nest.

Sam ran into the FBI while tracking a shiftshaper in Tulsa over Labor Day weekend, but escaped with only a single bullet to the chest. Thankfully, he managed to slow its speed down enough that it only just pierced his skin and nicked one of his ribs, cracking it. It still hurt like a bitch, but Sam knew better by now than to let his emotions cloud over the state of his body. He forced Henricksen and Reidy to fall asleep on the spot, not particularly interested in killing the agents. After all, it wasn't _their_ fault that Dean was dead or considered a fugitive, and neither man had ever tried to actively kill him in the past. They were just a nuisance.

He killed the shapeshifter, drove himself back to the motel he was using one-handed, removed the bullet himself with the tweezers from the first-aid kit, and then stitched himself up without using any kind of pain reliever. He did pour some alcohol over his ribcage to sanitize the wound and prevent infection, barely wincing at the burning sting as the liquid slid between the black sutures.

Sam slept the required amount necessary to keep his body in good condition. He ate the requisite amounts of food to sustain his weight and energy. He cleaned his weapons regularly. He went out on Hunts. He tracked the Trickster. There was nothing else in life but that.

He ran into Gordon Walker, escaped from prison with a few of his buddies sometime in late September. They had, apparently, found a good-sized supply of the drug that had been used on him back in Baltimore by the demon Buck, but they hadn't been able to use it yet. When Sam learned that the group of Hunters had tortured Danielle's family and friends to try and find him (there was a flash of regret that he had ignored every phone call and voicemail from anyone and everyone before it was gone again), he forced them all to kill themselves and set fire to their base of operations. He didn't feel any guilt at all, only a continued hatred that burned so coldly that he felt little else.

Ruby started following him during month three, but after two weeks of telling the demon to go away, he forcefully pulled her knife from her hands and killed her, dumping her Jane Doe body in a ditch and driving away. He didn't need her or any revenge on any demons. He was going to find Loki and get Dean back. That big-shot demon he'd heard about was going to have to _wait_ to try and kill him because he had many, _many_ better things to do with his time.

Not that demons didn't try to track him down and kill him, anyway. Sadly, for them, none of them succeeded. Many were stabbed with Ruby's knife. Three were given the privilege of being shot with the Colt. Only one was actually exorcised, and only because it had the balls to try and possess Sarah Blake of New Paltz, New York. She survived the exorcism, but Sam didn't stick around to talk.

The Trickster left false trails and dead-ends all over the continent. Sam drove to Canada for a series of grocery-store accidents that were too 'freaky' to be average. He even went to Mexico once, but there wasn't a trail to follow from there, either. The demi-god seemed to be enjoying this game of cat-and-mouse too much to end it.

Sam couldn't imagine hating anyone or anything as much as he hated Loki.

Bobby tracked him down physically during month four after, but Sam refused to speak to him, even forced him to leave just by thinking it while stating that they had nothing to talk about except Loki's whereabouts. Ellen and Jo came sometime after that, but left when their pleas for Sam to listen to them and stop moving across the country to find the Trickster with the determination of a fucking Terminator went unanswered.

By month five, everything started to blur into long days and nights of loneliness and solitude. Sam only continued his perfunctory actions of self-care because he knew that once he found Loki and convinced him to bring Dean back, he would need to be in good shape for his brother's sake. No one, and nothing else mattered but that. Dean was in Hell so many months earlier than he was supposed to be, and even if Sam couldn't save Dean when the real time came, at least he could try and save his brother now.

"Sam," Bobby said on his voicemail in month six. "Sam, I found him."

* * *

><p>The Broward County Mystery Spot hadn't changed at all in the six months that Sam had been on the road looking for the Trickster. Well, apart from the various items Bobby had drawn and placed on the floor.<p>

"Hey," Sam said softly, and Bobby whirled around, a weary but glad smile breaking over his weathered face.

"It's good to see you, boy," he said, striding forward and wrapping his arms around Sam.

"Where's Ellen and Jo?" Sam asked in lieu of returning the hug.

"Tracking some demons down in Texas," Bobby answered, stepping back with a small frown on his face. "How're you doin'?"

"I'm fine," Sam said with the barest hint of a shrug, because he _was_ fine. "Why am I back here? Loki left this place back in July."

Six months.

"I found a ritual that's supposed to summon him here, since it's the last place we know he was at for sure," Bobby said, stepping back a little more and gesturing to his various supplies.

"You have everything?" Sam asked.

Bobby shook his head. "Still missing one thing," he said. "We need blood. Human blood."

"How much?" Sam asked.

"Near a gallon," Bobby answered grimly. "And it has to be fresh, too. Also, we do this tonight or we wait another 50 years to try again."

Sam remembered a time when he would have reacted to such statements with dismay, but things had changed. _He_ had changed.

"Fine," he said. "Wait here, I'll go —"

"What's wrong with you?" Bobby cut him off, features suddenly twisting in dismay, and it suddenly occurred to Sam that he hadn't used his empathy once since Dean had died, but the thought was brushed aside as Bobby continued, "We'd have to just about bleed a person _dry_ to get that much blood, and you're just gonna do it without a care?"

"You said this will summon him," Sam said flatly. "We're summoning him, Bobby, and then I'm getting Dean back."

"You really think Dean would want to come back and find out you'd _killed_ a man to do it?" Bobby asked incredulously.

Sam felt anger that burned hotter than the ice that had consumed him the last six months. He narrowed his eyes at the man he had considered a better father-figure than the real one he'd had growing up. "You call me here," he said, "tell me what to do and then say I can't do it?"

"Sam —" Bobby started.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Sam's voice rose for the first time since Dean's death. "Don't you want Dean back?"

"Of course I do!" Bobby exclaimed. "But not this way. Not like this. Sam, I called you here because me, Ellen and Jo are fuckin' _worried_ about you and we wanna help, but not like this."

"Then leave," Sam snapped. "Leave the instructions, get the fuck outta here and I'll do it myself."

Bobby shook his head. "I can't let you kill an innocent."

Sam set his jaw stubbornly. "You can't give me a way to fix this and then tell me not to," he said lowly.

Bobby's shoulders slumped. "Kill me, then," he sighed.

Sam blinked and felt his jaw drop slightly. "What?"

The emotion he felt seemed foreign after everything he'd done the last six months. The walls in his mind dropped —

"You're not Bobby," he whispered.

"Excuse me?" Bobby said, frowning in concern at Sam.

"You wanna know what my biggest mistake was during those infinite Tuesdays?" Sam asked, slowly stepping forward and pulling out Ruby's knife from the sheath he'd strapped to his belt, the Colt tucked securely in the back of his jeans should the knife fail him, and the blood-tipped stake tucked into his jacket for added security. "I never used my empathy, and you know why? Because Loki _tricked_ my mind into thinking more about Dean's situation than the reality around me until he gave me the one little tip-off that brought me back to my senses."

"Sam — " Bobby took a step back, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

"I've done things that I'm supposed to regret doing," Sam continued. "Things that I normally _wouldn't_ do the last few months. I felt like some… I dunno, some sort of soulless _monster_, killing things in my way without considering the moral consequences like I normally do. I have done nothing but make logical choices that are supposed to bother me because it puts innocent lives at stake and _I haven't cared_. At all." Sam looked around the room. "You're not real. You look and feel real, but there was always something slightly off about Loki's emotions compared to every other monster I've sensed, enough that the fake things don't quite measure up to the real." He raised the blade. "End the illusion now."

Bobby gaped for about two seconds, and then he swirled into nothingness. Sam barely managed to sense Loki before there was clapping behind him. He whirled around to see the demi-god with the same inane smirk on his face.

"Well done, Sammy," he said, slowly walking forward and looking for all the world like an amused game show host rather than a fucking _demi-god_. "I gotta say, you are definitely the most interesting human I've ever messed around with."

Sam still held Ruby's knife in front of him, feeling _everything_ as the walls he'd constructed in his mind fell to pieces. He remembered how Danielle had felt when she had broken down, sobbing in his arms as her shields had completely collapsed. He remembered how he'd understood that she hadn't cried once after her husband's untimely murder, how her shields had turned inward as she closed off from everyone and everything because the shock of what had happened was far too great to handle.

He had done the exact same thing after Dean's untimely death, and he had reached his breaking point, at last.

"Please," he whispered, voice breaking as all those suppressed emotions rose to the surface with the force of a tidal wave. "Bring him back."

Loki's smile slowly fell and was replaced by an oddly serious expression Sam hadn't ever seen before on the demi-god's face. "There's a lesson you still haven't learned, Sam," he said, voice uncharacteristically somber. "Don't you realize that you can't save your brother when his Deal is up?"

"I still have a chance," Sam retorted desperately. "If I kill the demon holding his contract —"

"And what _are_ your chances of doing it, realistically?" Loki cut him off. "You can't trust anything a demon tells you, no matter how nice she seems or how reliable the intel she provides you with may be."

"A chance is still better than no hope," Sam said imploringly, "and without you, I have neither. _Please_, bring him back. Or just — send me back to that Tuesday — I mean Wednesday and we'll leave you alone and go somewhere else, _anywhere_ else but here."

"You'd really abandon a Hunt?"

Sam nodded, feeling a tear escape and slip down his right cheek. "I swear it," he said softly.

Loki stared up at Sam and sighed. "You are too hopeful," he said. "You _do_ realize that, don't you?"

Sam smiled sadly. "That's just who I am. I have to believe that I can find a way out of all of this."

"I'm trying to do you a favor, Sam," Loki said after a few moments had passed. "Things are better this way."

"No," Sam said, "they're not. You've watched me, haven't you? Seen the things I've done?" Loki nodded. "How am I better without Dean? How is it better that I lose him in July rather than trying to save him before his time runs out in April?"

"I don't know that you really want me to answer those questions," Loki replied, a new note to his voice that Sam had never heard but couldn't make himself analyze. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to keep from crying. That didn't seem to stop the tears from continuing to escape and sliding down his face, though.

"This stopped being fun a long time ago," Loki finally said. "You are such a fuckin' _downer_, Sam Winchester."

Sam opened his eyes. "What does that mean?"

Loki raised his right hand and smiled slightly. "I don't believe that things will go any better when April comes and Dean still goes to Hell," he said, "but if you're willing to have false hope in a such a shitty situation no matter what I do or say, then I guess I can't stop you." Then he snapped his fingers and Sam fell into a void of nothingness.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	11. Eleven: A Changed Man

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Eleven: A Changed Man**

**Okay, time for some plot and stuff! This chapter finishes up what little was left of "Mystery Spot", plus some character development or whatever. Also, a little bit of Gordon and co. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>Sam needs you more than you know. He's lost, Dean, and no matter what lies ahead, I don't think he'll make it there in one piece without you."<em>

— _Rachel Nave, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>Dean finished gargling and spit into the sink as the alarm clock turned on.<p>

"_We're gonna go back in time!"_

Sam sat up in bed, staring at Dean with a wide-eyed expression he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. "You gonna sleep all day?" Dean asked with a slight scowl.

Sam swallowed hard, and Dean was surprised to see his little brother's eyes shining like he was seconds away from crying. Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know what was bringing on the latest bout of emo, so he said, "Turn off the radio, would you? This station sucks," but Sam was climbing out of bed, practically running towards him, and then Dean was engulfed in his brother's long arms. "Dude —"

"Please say it's Wednesday," Sam whispered in a voice too close to breaking for Dean's liking.

"Yeah," he said slowly, hugging Sam back in hopes that it might help to calm his brother down. "Wednesday, which generally comes after Tuesday." He frowned, recalling the conversation with Loki the day before. "How many Tuesdays did you go through, Sam?"

Sam just squeezed Dean tighter. "Enough," he mumbled before pulling back. "Wait, what d'you remember about… Tuesday? Yesterday?"

Dean frowned some more as he thought over yesterday's events. "You seemed pretty whacked out of it," he finally answered, "and we ran into Loki, the Trickster, but that's about it. Are you okay, Sammy?"

Sam sniffed and nodded, looking away. He seemed incredibly distraught, and Dean began to wonder if they really _did_ need to hash things out like two pansy guys in a crap romantic comedy or whatever. "Sam —"

"We need to leave," Sam cut him off, not-so-discreetly wiping at his eyes as he grabbed a set of clean clothes from his duffel and started changing.

"But if Loki's still here —"

"No," Sam said quietly, but firmly. "We're leaving, Dean. Just — pack your things, all right? And — don't leave the room without me."

Well, _that_ was a weird request, but Dean figured he could indulge his crazy little brother just this once. "Fine," he said. "What about breakfast?"

"We can grab something in the next county over," Sam said as he dragged a clean shirt over his head.

Dean began packing up his things. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?" he asked again. Sam glanced over at him. "Just… you seem spooked. Did something else happen during those Tuesdays?"

Sam swallowed hard and shook his head. "Bad dream," he answered, eyes going strangely distant for a moment. "That's all."

Dean frowned and narrowed his eyes, but tried to find something lighter to say to try and break the tension. "Clowns or midgets?"

Sam rolled his eyes, and the mood finally began to lighten after that.

Once they had the stuff all packed and ready to go, Dean led the way downstairs to the Impala. They tossed their things in the trunk, checked out ("You don't need to follow me everywhere, Sam." "Shut up, Dean."), and hit the road.

"You know," Dean said sometime later (five counties over plus a state line seemed a safe enough distance to try and broach the subject), "it's not like us to abandon a job like this."

"I know," Sam said, staring absently out the passenger window, "but we can't kill him, Dean. He's too powerful."

"Fine," Dean said, "but I still wanna know how I managed to not kill him the first time, y'know?"

Sam blinked, and Dean watched as his brother's eyes went a little distant. "There's something… something about that first time we met him — but I forgot… or he made me forget?" He blinked a few more times and sighed. "I think he, I dunno, duplicated himself back at that university."

"What, like Danton Black?"

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You know, the villain Multiplex?" Dean said, but Sam still wasn't getting it. "Don't you know _anything_ about DC comics?" Sam still looked confused, and Dean sighed in exasperation. "Whatever. I still don't like just running away with our tails between our legs."

"I know," Sam said quietly, "but I'm not letting him take you away. Not again."

Dean frowned, but Sam hunkered down in his seat, signaling that he was (for once in his goddamn life) done with talking, so Dean focused on the blacktop in front of him and stepped on the gas, speeding down the road and away from the place that he feared might feature in Sam's nightmares.

* * *

><p>"Different?" Ellen asked. "Different how?"<p>

"I don't know," Dean answered over the phone, and he sounded incredibly frustrated in a way that only Sam could ever make him. "It's just — it's been an entire _month_ since we ran from that Trickster, and Sam…" He gave a small groan of frustration. "He's a lot quieter, but sometimes I kinda feel like he's suddenly forgotten how to Hunt with a partner. You shoulda _seen_ that poltergeist we took out at Missouri's request two days ago, it was like I wasn't even there to help place all the bags in the corners of the house to banish it. And he's…"

Dean fell silent. "He's what?" Ellen pressed.

"Sam used to be so _angry_, growing up," Dean said quietly. "After L.A., a lot of that went away, like he was learning to let go of everything from the past and move on, being open and all that good stuff, but lately his temper's been flarin' up again. He gets angry when I don't agree with him about something —"

"Like Ruby?" Ellen suggested.

"— or about this demon that tracked us down last week," Dean said, voice becoming tighter. "Sam wanted to just shoot it with the Colt instead of doing an exorcism, even when he said he could tell that the human trapped inside was still alive. Ellen, something _happened_ back in Broward County and Sam won't tell me anything. I don't know what to do."

Ellen sighed and leaned back in her seat in the small diner she and Jo were eating lunch at in Rock Springs, Wyoming. Well, Jo was _supposed_ to be there, but she hadn't shown up just yet from her morning research at the local library.

"Sam always comes clean with you, Dean," she told him, running a hand through her hair as she looked out the window for the pick-up she and Jo were currently sharing. "You've told me about times in the past when he's stewed over something for a while before opening up. This is probably no different from that, only this time you're wanting him to talk about supposedly watching you die over and over again in countless different ways. Something like that can't be very easy to get over too quickly, even if you're right there beside him."

Dean didn't say anything for a moment. "Look," she finally said, "just give your brother time. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Yeah," Dean said after a moment. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right." He didn't sound particularly relieved, and as Ellen flipped her phone shut, she couldn't help but feel like maybe she'd let Dean down by not having any real answers.

Sam would open up in time, she had learned that much over the last year. The only question was when?

"Mom."

Ellen startled and looked up. "Jo, it's about time."

"Mom, we've gotta leave now," Jo said quickly, pulling on her mother's arm and looking incredibly worried.

"Leave? Jo, what's goin' on?"

Jo glanced around the diner as though she was expecting someone evil to come walking through the front doors at any moment. "I'll explain once we hit the road," she finally said, "but we've gotta now right now."

Ellen was incredibly confused, but she grabbed her bag and followed her daughter out of the diner and into their truck. "Drive," Jo said tersely.

"Honey, what's goin' on?" Ellen asked again as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for I-80. "Which way?"

"Doesn't matter," Jo stated before saying, "towards Bobby's place."

Ellen took the eastbound ramp and headed onto the freeway. "What's goin' on?" she asked once more.

"I saw Kubrick just outside the library," Jo said, "and he wasn't alone."

The asshole who had threatened her daughter. Ellen couldn't help but want to turn right the fuck around, but there was an odd note to her daughter's voice that made her keep driving. "Who was with him?"

Jo hesitated for a moment and then said, "Gordon Walker."

_Ah, crap._

Ellen knew Gordon's history with the Winchesters better than she knew what had happened during John's final hunt with her dead husband. The man had been told by a demon that Sam and the other special children were supposed to be soldiers in a demon army bent on destroying the world, and had thusly decided that Sam and all the other kids like him had to die. Thanks to him, one boy named Scott Carey had eventually lost his life to Kubrick's gun, and Gordon had managed to land himself in prison. He wasn't supposed to be in Wyoming of all places.

"We need to find out what happened," Ellen eventually managed. "How he's outta prison when Dean said he had a nice, long sentence."

Jo nodded from the passenger seat and their truck sped down the road.

* * *

><p>"You wanna tell me what all went down back in Broward County?"<p>

Sam looked up at Dean as his brother shut the door of their current motel room, stuffing his cell phone in his pocket. The question had been hovering on the tip of his brother's tongue for the last month after they had left Loki to his business and minded their own, but Sam had done everything he could to avoid talking about it, focusing on finding things for them to Hunt, or looking into the powerful demon that held Dean's contract and wanted Sam dead.

And with good reason. There was no way Dean was going to like anything he had to say about Broward County, or those alternate six months on his own. Many of the details were blending together into what felt like a long-lasting nightmare, but how could he tell his brother that he was capable of far worse things than their own father? John had at least had two children that he still needed to look after as much as he could manage.

Unfortunately, Sam had been having nightmares from all the not-talking, and he'd already learned after Jessica's death and everything in L.A. that staying clammed up didn't help him or Dean.

He opened his mouth and said, "I don't wanna talk about it, Dean." _Figures_.

Dean didn't say anything, but Sam could sense his anger and worry were on the verge of reaching their limit. Well, had _reached_ their limit, because the next words out of Dean's mouth were, "Well, tough."

"Excuse me?" Sam spluttered, turning a confused glare to his brother. "Dean, I'm busy trying to figure out where this vampire nest could be so we can do our _job_, and you wanna _talk_?"

Dean scowled. "You've been off since the Mystery Spot," he said bluntly. "And don't tell me you're trying to find the nest when I think you already know where it is."

"What?" Sam said incredulously. "No, I don't, Dean. Would you just leave me alone?"

"What happened?" Dean asked sharply, clearly set on ignoring anything Sam said that wasn't an answer to his questions. "And don't say it was nothing but Tuesdays of me dying over and over again, because that's not enough to get you acting like this."

"Acting like what?"

"Like Dad."

Sam froze at that. "I'm not —" he started to deny.

"Tell me," Dean cut him off shortly. "You stopped hiding things from me a _year ago_, Sam. What happened to make you start doing it again?"

Sam averted his eyes. "I can't do this right now, Dean."

"And you think I wanna?" Dean asked. Sam looked back up. "Maybe it escaped your attention, but the last couple of jobs we've been on, you've not only taken charge, but solved them in two days or less! And I know you haven't been doing butt-loads of research late at night cause I've been drugging your drinks" — Sam glanced down at his bottle of water and shot Dean a scathing glare, which he ignored — "so all I can think is that you already know what's happening before-hand, and that's supposed be _impossible_ since your stupid visions stopped with Azazel's death." Dean grabbed a chair from the other side of the small table Sam was sitting at, plunked it down next to Sam, and then dropped into it, staring at his brother intently. "What happened with Loki that you're not telling me?"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to tell Dean what he'd been like on his own, how dark and hopeless he'd been, feeling like his moral compass had been buried so deeply that not even his soul knew how to find it because nothing else but the hunt for Loki had mattered. He couldn't tell Dean about all those days and nights on his own, how he'd only taken care of himself because it was what Dean would want once he was alive again, how he'd either had nightmares of Dean in Hell or dreamt of nothing at all, the circles under his eyes getting deeper and darker because three square meals a day and eight hours in bed every night never left him feeling satisfied when the Trickster was probably busy devouring candy and getting a fucking _laugh_ out of Sam's predicament —

Dean's cell phone starting ringing, and he startled and cursed before answering it. "Hello?"

He frowned as the caller started talking, and then his expression grew grim. "Thanks for letting me know. We'll keep an eye out. Take care." He shut his phone and his jaw worked for a second before he rose and stalked away.

"Dean?" Sam questioned warily. "What was that about?"

Dean took a deep breath before turning to face Sam. "Gordon Walker's escaped prison, Sam. Jo saw him with Kubrick in Wyoming not two hours ago."

Sam closed his eyes. A lot of the details of those six months on his own may be blurring too much for him to remember specific details, but this little tidbit had managed to stand out in spite of everything.

"He wants me dead," he said quietly. "He and his friends are trying to find that drug I got dosed with last year in Baltimore."

He opened his eyes at the simmering of Dean's emotions. "How long have you known, Sam?"

Sam swallowed. "There were more than just endless Tuesdays of you dying," he said. "There was… there was another Wednesday. You got shot, and then time just went on."

"Went on?" Dean echoed.

Sam took a deep breath as he slumped in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "I went six months after that day, trying to find Loki so he could bring you back, and hunting other things when all my leads were dry."

Dean slowly approached Sam as he spoke and lowered himself back into his chair. "Six months?" he asked quietly.

"I ran into Gordon and his friends in… September, I think," Sam said. "They hadn't found an opportunity to track me down and dose me up yet, and I —" He broke off and looked away. "I did a lot of things during that time that I'm not proud of," he finally said. "I was worse than _Dad_ without you, and I can't go through that again, Dean. I _just can't_."

He was hopelessly co-dependent, his mind said, but Sam wasn't crazy enough to voice _that_ particular thought. Their lives were already fucked-up as it was.

Dean's eyes and emotions softened. "Tell me," he said softly. "Sammy, talk to me."

So Sam finally told him every last thing he could still remember.

* * *

><p>Gordon sat in a corner of a bar, drinking a beer and pondering over the innocent crowd of civilians enjoying a Friday night of food, fun and booze. He and his crew had been trying to track down a demon named Derrick for information on a drug capable of subduing a powerful psychic like Sam Winchester, but apart from a small haunting on the outskirts of town, Rock Springs had turned out to be a complete waste of time. Why did it have to be so hard to track down a demon he had never seen before?<p>

Kubrick entered the bar and headed over to Gordon's table, easing into a chair and glaring at the civilians around them. "I don't like it here," he stated after a few seconds had passed.

"It's loud and anonymous," Gordon said with a shrug. "Demons normally enjoy places like this."

"So why isn't this Derrick here, then?" Kubrick asked. "Seriously, I'd sooner expect a vampire clan to swagger in than this hard-to-find demon."

"Wyoming has had strange activity since Sam opened that Gate," Gordon replied. "And there's no vamps around right now."

"How d'you know?"

"Already checked."

Kubrick rolled his eyes, but appeared understanding, nonetheless. "I still think the demon's gotta be back on the east coast. That's where he was last year, and there's a chance he probably hasn't strayed much since then."

Gordon sighed and leaned back in his chair. "We don't know that for a fact."

"Yeah," Kubrick said, "but we _do_ know that he was last in Baltimore, and that there's a convent not even a half-hour outside the city that was abandoned after a priest disemboweled eight nuns and then claimed a demon possessed him and made him do it. He said the demon's name was Azazel, which, according to that Brady boy is the name of the demon that killed John Winchester's wife and turned Sam into a freak. I figure there's gotta be something important about the area, otherwise there wouldn't've been demons there under Azazel's orders in the first place."

"But Azazel's dead," Gordon pointed out. "I heard from a guy who heard it from a friend of a friend of Ellen Harvelle that Dean shot the bastard with a special Colt built by the gun maker himself. Demons have no real loyalty unless another more powerful sonuvabitch comes along and beats them down."

"I still think Baltimore's our best lead," Kubrick all but grumbled.

"So why haven't Creedy and Carlton called in to say they found it?"

Kubrick didn't have an answer to that, and the two Hunters drank their beers in silence for another hour before leaving the bar and heading back to Kubrick's trailer to call it a night.

Gordon was silently contemplating Kubrick's obsession with Jesus (no way he existed with all the evil there was in the world) when his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"We found him."

Gordon blinked and stood up straighter. "Seriously?"

Creedy chuckled over the line. "He wasn't in Baltimore or at that convent, but somewhere about five miles west, working in a factory. Also, he tracked _us_ down, not the other way around."

Gordon frowned. "So what happened?"

"Showed up," Creedy said, "said he knew about us, handed over a portable cooler with nearly two dozen vials of the drug he claims was used on Sam, wished us the best of luck and then left. Couldn't even get a word in edgewise, it was that fuckin' fast. Anyway, Carlton's analyzing one of the vials, figuring out its chemical makeup and other shit like that, but I think the demon delivered the goods."

Gordon found that hard to believe. "He really just _handed_ the stuff over without a care?"

"Oh, that was the other thing," Creedy replied. "Derrick claims there's a new player on the board who wants both the Winchesters dead, and all o' this was on _her_ orders."

"Her," Gordon echoed. "You get a name?"

"Nope," Creedy sighed, "but if the demons want Dr. Frankenstein's monster outta the equation, then maybe that demon army thing was a load of hogwash, too."

"Or maybe Sam's existence hinged on that demon that created him," Gordon replied, "the one we know Dean shot and killed. New player, new rules. Either way, we got what we wanted. Now all we need is the boy."

"Walker, the Winchesters are anything but easy to track," said Creedy. "We got lucky in New York back in June, but you know how well _that_ turned out."

Gordon remembered; the news that Sam had used his mind powers to make Kubrick and Creedy leave him alone hadn't been the most thrilling thing he'd ever heard. "So we lean on another civilian, one who's likely to still be in contact with the brothers."

"They don't stay close to civilians," Creedy said, "no one does."

"No," Gordon said quietly, "there's one I can think of."

"Who?"

Gordon grinned. "Why don't you two mosey on back to this side of the country? I need to double-check the FBI database, but I think we're finally in the free and clear to look into _questioning_ the best friend of Danielle Young."

"Will do," Creedy said, sounding pleased. "You and Kubrick keep your heads down until we get there, all right?"

"Of course," Gordon said. "We're nearing our goal, this is a group effort from here on out. Drive safe, friend."

Gordon dreamt of revenge that night, of being the hero in his twisted dreams, of being the savior the world would never know to thank.

Sam Winchester was going to die.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	12. Twelve: Erunt Primi Novissimi

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Twelve: Erunt Primi Novissimi**

**There is nothing more time-consuming than real life, you know? My husband accidentally broke a car belong to some Germans, I played hostess to said Germans for about a week, I got hypothermia (it really isn't a fun thing to have, who'da thought?), I ended up with no car to drive so my husband could return to work, and I ate turkey three different times for Thanksgiving (a more in-depth story of these events can be found on my LJ if you're interested; just follow the homepage link on my profile). It's been hard to get around to writing with all of that going on, but here we are at last!**

**This chapter takes from 3.09 "Malleus Maleficarum". There will also be a translation of the chapter title within the chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>"I somehow doubt you can imagine just where all this is headed, but I can tell you this: once we get there, you'll wonder how you never managed to figure it out."<em>

— _Azazel, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>Dean stared absently at the laptop screen with only one real thought on his mind.<p>

Sam.

He sometimes felt overwhelmed by his brother, like he wasn't sure where to go next or what to do with him. The kid was a fucking conundrum lately when he had once been so simple, and he wasn't sure that it was all due to what had happened with Loki.

Even after Sam told Dean everything he could remember of those endless Tuesdays and those six months on his own, he continued to act differently. Dean could understand Sam sticking more closely to his side (if he'd had to watch Sam die a hundred different ways, he probably would react just the same), and he could accept that sometimes Sam had sound, one-man plans to get rid of the monsters they were after (although the way he'd proposed taking out that vamp nest in Austin was a little too much for Dean). However, even after baring his soul or whatever, Sam persisted in long periods of silence in the car or during meals in crappy diners with overworked waitresses, never complaining about Dean's music being too loud, never pulling bitchfaces when Dean ate his cheeseburgers with extra onions on his bed, staring in the trunk of the Impala like he wasn't sure where anything was and persisting in very little sleep when he wasn't laying perfectly still for eight hours before getting up like it was clockwork and seriously, it _never happened_, so how was Dean supposed to remind/convince him of that?

How was he supposed to go to Hell next year when this was what his brother was likely to do?

_There is no Sam without Dean._

God, Dean needed some (translation: _lots of_) whiskey to deal with this shit.

The motel door opened and Sam stepped inside, holding a bag of take-out with two drinks. "Hey," he said softly. "Found anything?"

Dean blinked and looked back down at the laptop screen. "Uh, yeah, woman choking to death in her bathroom last night," he said. "Apparently, she spit out like, all of her teeth or something and choked on her own blood."

"Gross," Sam commented, dividing up the food and drinks. "When we headin' out?"

"First thing tomorrow," Dean said, "it'll probably take us most of the day to drive there and I'd like some sleep after that stupid demon this morning." This now made two demons that had tried to track down the brothers and kill them since Broward County, and it was only mid-September.

Sam smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah." He tucked into his food almost mechanically, and Dean bit his tongue to keep from saying anything.

* * *

><p>"Witches?" Dean grimaced. "God I hate them, always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere."<p>

Sam cracked a tiny smile and nodded. "We're not talkin' that new-age stuff, either." He carefully held out the opened hex bag he had recovered from under the sink of Janet and Paul Dutton's master bathroom. "This is old world black magic, see? Rabbit teeth, bird bones, and the cloth probably came from something of Janet's."

Dean scowled. "Was this one of those jobs you dealt with before?"

Sam blinked, glanced at Dean and shook his head.

"Okay," Dean said after a second when it became clear Sam wasn't going to say anything else on the subject, "so we need to find out who had a grudge against Janet, then?"

Sam nodded again. "It could be anyone," he said.

"What, no old, craggy blair witch in the woods?"

Sam didn't crack a smile this time. Dean cast around for something else to say.

"Did you get a feel on Paul Dutton's emotions while you were findin' that bag?" he asked.

Sam glanced at Dean and frowned slightly. "He wasn't being totally honest, but I was distracted, so I don't know what he wasn't saying."

Dean sighed and opened the Impala's driver-side door. "I think someone has a grudge against his wife," he said, "and probably him, too."

"So we're following him?" Sam asked.

"Probably a good idea," Dean said. "Let's go change and come back, he'll probably be home most of the day."

Sam nodded once again and glanced around the neighborhood, another frown crossing his face. "Sam," Dean said.

"Huh?"

"You uh, sensin' somethin' else?"

Sam chewed on his bottom lip for a second. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe." Pause. "No."

Dean sighed. "C'mon, get in the car."

* * *

><p>They followed Paul Dutton for the rest of the day and most of the evening, barely managing to save him from choking to death sometime after sunset. Sam used his mojo to quickly recover the hex bag in the man's car and had it burning seconds later.<p>

"What was that?" Paul gasped out as he relearned how to breathe.

"Someone killed your wife and was trying to kill you, too," Dean said shortly.

"What? That's impossible!" Paul shouted hoarsely.

"You woulda been dead as a doornail if we hadn't followed you," Dean snapped. "Now, you weren't honest with me earlier, Paul, we need to know who might've been angry with you or your wife."

Paul groaned, leaned against his car and dropped his head into his hands. "I uh…" He chuckled humorlessly. "I made a… a mistake with… another woman."

"An affair," Dean said flatly.

Paul nodded and looked up. "Amanda… she blackmailed me…" He shuddered slightly. "She was unbalanced, so I ended it. A week ago."

"What's her last name?" Sam asked quietly.

* * *

><p>"She's dead," Dean sighed, staring down at Amanda Burns, her upper half slumped over on her glass coffee table. "Three cuts to each arm, she was serious about this."<p>

Sam frowned and bent down. "She was working some pretty heavy stuff based on this alter here, but I don't buy the suicide display." Dean watched as Sam reached under the table and felt around. "Crap." He held out another hex bag.

"Seriously?" Dean groused. He turned and almost ran into a dead rabbit hanging from the ceiling. "Gross!" he all but shouted.

"Well, we know where the rabbit's teeth came from," Sam commented as he rose, carefully opening the hex bag in his hand.

"God, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em," Dean said with a grimace, turning away. "It's like Fatal Attraction all over again."

Sam smiled slightly as he looked through the hex bag's contents.

"Seriously," Dean went on, "why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal? The poor little guy."

"I'm sure Thumper appreciates your manly expression of outrage on his behalf."

Dean blinked and stared at Sam. Sam, who was actually smiling with a hint of dimple. Dean couldn't help but smile, too.

"So," he said after basking in the momentary success sufficiently, "we got a little witch on witch violence."

"I think we might have a whole coven on our hands, actually," Sam sighed.

"Lame."

"Yeah." Sam looked out the nearest window and frowned. "I keep thinking there's something here, but…"

"But…" Dean prompted after a few seconds.

"I don't know," Sam muttered, still looking confused. "We should call this in."

Dean called 9-1-1 and left a tip. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>The next morning, a blonde chick showed up in the diner during breakfast and started walking towards where Dean and Sam were sitting. About five feet away, Sam said (without looking up from his menu), "Hey, Ruby. It's been a while."<p>

"Ruby?" Dean narrowed his eyes at the girl. "So this is your new look."

"Well, you disapproved of the last one," Ruby said, sliding into the booth next to Sam, "and I hear tell that blondes have more fun, so I thought I'd try this on for size."

Dean snorted. "Is she what you've been sensing, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "I think there's another demon here, but I can't pinpoint it."

Great, another demon.

"I want fries," Ruby said.

"Got a name for the demon that wants me dead?" Sam asked distractedly as he continued looking over the diner's menu.

"No," Ruby said.

"Then you're on your own."

Dean smirked at Ruby, who stuck her tongue out at him and scowled. "I can at least help figure out where this demon you're sensing is at since I'm already here," she said to Sam. "It could be an older one that knows how to cloak its… signature, if you will, from psychics."

"Well, I guess normal psychics have nothing on me, then," Sam said, finally lowering the menu and looking at Ruby, seeming completely unfazed by her new skin. "It's like an itch at the back of my skull that I can't get rid of, it's really annoying."

The waitress came over to take their orders. It didn't escape Dean's attention that Sam's choices were both simple and cheap. Over a month had passed and Sam's habits from a time that never happened were still sticking close.

"We're not desperate to be penny-pinchers right now," Dean said after the waitress left. Sam blinked at him before catching on to what he wasn't saying and looking down with a humorless chuckle.

"Sorry," he said.

"Don't be sorry, Sam," Dean sighed. "Just, you said a lot of the details were fading away. It'd be kinda nice if some of the more stringent habits could fade out, too."

Ruby's blue eyes darted back and forth between Sam and Dean, her latest face scrunched in confusion. "Am I missing something important here?" she asked.

"No," the brothers said in unison. Sam smiled at Dean, and it was the most genuine one yet.

After breakfast was finished, Ruby went off to try and figure out where the demon Sam couldn't identify was hanging out. Meanwhile, the brothers headed back into Amanda Burns' neighborhood to interview the neighbors and identify the people who might be in a coven together.

Dean wasn't expecting a showdown right then and there. But then, when did anything ever really happen the way he expected?

* * *

><p>"Elizabeth, are you all right?"<p>

Sam turned to take in two women approaching him and Dean on Elizabeth's front lawn. One was blonde and was snooty all over. The other had dark hair, almost black and seemed worried, only…

Sam blinked, trying to figure her out.

"I'm fine, Renee," Elizabeth said, worry and anxiety giving way to relief. "These are detectives, they say Amanda was — she was practicing —"

"I'm sorry detectives," Renee said, stepping forward imperiously. "You can tell that Elizabeth is a little upset."

"Of course," Dean said, "Miss —?"

"Oh, Mrs. Renee Van Allen," the blonde woman said. "Would you like me to spell it for you?"

"I'll get by, thanks," Dean said with a tight smile. His expression gave nothing away when he met Sam's eyes, but his emotions were saying, _what the fuck is up with these chicks?_

Sam might have found the urge to laugh if Ruby hadn't come flying around the block corner some 200 feet away, eyes wide as she stared at the two women the brothers were facing.

The dark-haired woman who had yet to introduce herself looked past Renee and stiffened. And then Sam knew.

"Oh, shit," he breathed.

"Excuse me?" Renee said as her companion turned away from Ruby and stared at Sam.

"Figures you'd have that traitorous bitch on your leash," she said, voice sharp and it was like a barrier broke; the sharp itching at the back of Sam's skull became a bonafide sense of _ohshitademon_, and then everyone was sent flying.

Sam heard pained grunts as everyone else in their little group was slammed into the ground, but Sam managed to fight off the demon's power enough to roll back into a crouch.

"Sam Winchester," the demon said with a dark laugh. Sam caught sight of a flash of silver from Ruby as she started running towards him. _The knife._ He stared up at the demon, forcing himself to stand. "You're in a lot of trouble this time."

"No more than usual," he said with false cheer. _Gotta keep her distracted._ "You put together a coven and claimed their souls?"

"Of course," the demon said with a smirk.

"Souls?" Renne Van Allen gasped out. "Tammi Fenton, what are you doing?"

Tammi the demon glanced at the blonde and grinned, eyes swirling black. Both Renne and Elizabeth gasped. "You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to," she said, "when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?"

"You're not Tammi," Elizabeth whispered.

"Haven't been for a while," Tammi said, "but I'm wearing her meat. You both sold yourselves to me, as did Amanda. All I had to do was wait for the right moment to bring in the right book and you were just _lining_ up to kiss my ass."

"But why kill Amanda?" Renee demanded.

"She got herself voted off the island," Tammi said with a shrug. "She brought attention to herself, which brought in the Hunters Sam and Dean Winchester here." She shot a glance at Sam. "I gotta say, it's like getting a two-for-one deal. Our new leader will be so pleased to finally hear back from one of us, she's been looking for you two for quite a while now."

"You're not getting Dean," Sam said shortly. Tammi narrowed her eyes slightly and threw out her hand. Sam was forced back a few feet, dress shoes digging into the grass as he threw up his own arms protectively. Tammi was easily as powerful as Vashta had been back in L.A., maybe even more so, and for the second time this year, Sam was without the added demon blood in his system.

Sam suddenly wondered if detoxing really had been a good idea.

He concentrated and forced Tammi to stumble back as Ruby ran right up to her, knife in hand, but Tammi retaliated, knocking the knife out of Ruby's hand and forcing Sam off his feet. He hit the ground with a grunt, watching as Ruby punched Tammi hard across the face before taking a hard hit of her own.

"I haven't seen you in ages, Ruby," Tammi said. A car slowed to a halt as it passed before coming to a halt. A man stepped out and started to yell, but then Tammi stuck out a hand and the man's head twisted around so far that it snapped his neck instantly. He crumpled to the ground as Tammi continued her advance on Ruby, ignoring the shocked screams from Elizabeth and Renee.

"You swore yourself to me," Tammi said to Ruby. "You were _mine_, and look how you're trying to repay me. You were one of my best!"

"So I changed," Ruby panted, backhanding Tammi hard and trying to go for the knife. Tammi recovered too fast, rushing Ruby and knocking her flat on her back. "You don't deserve loyalty from _anyone_."

Tammi laughed, reaching out to grip Ruby's neck tightly. Ruby struggled as Sam forced himself to his knees slowly.

"You never should have gotten through the gates," Tammi told Ruby. "Everyone knows you're a traitor, Ruby. _Lilith_ has even ordered your head on a pointy stick, just for her amusement."

Sam froze as Fredric Lehne's final words echoed in his mind for the first time in months. _"Whisper through the keyhole, need to free… Lilith, needs Lilith for Seals…"_

Someone called Lilith. Azazel needed someone called Lilith.

"_He was releasing more than just an army,"_ Tara had said before she had died, the first demon killed with the newly rebuilt Colt. _"There was a demon he needed free, a demon buried deep in the Pit, and that Devil's Gate in Wyoming was the only one close enough to let her out."_

_Her,_ Sam thought. _I knew her name the whole time._

"Why have you thrown your chips in with Abbott and Costello over here?" Tammi asked Ruby as she continued to choke her. "Surely you know that two little humans stand no chance against us."

Ruby glared up at Tammi. "One… reason," she gasped out. Tammi narrowed her eyes and leaned a little closer as Ruby nearly whispered her next words. _"Erunt primi novissimi."_

It was Latin, and it clearly pained both demons to hear and speak the words. Tammi's expression shifted into startled disbelief, and that was the only break Sam needed.

The knife flew up from the rain gutter it had clattered into and slammed right into Tammi's back. Her mouth fell open as she lit up from the inside, jerking as the knife did its work. Ruby threw her off and rose as the other demon died.

There was a long moment of silence before Ruby stepped forward and pulled her knife free from Tammi's back. "I stopped belonging to you the day I went to Hell," she said softly, but firmly. Then she looked over at Sam.

"Lilith," she said. "The demon who wants you dead, who holds Dean's contract. It must be Lilith."

Sam and Dean rose to their feet as Renee and Elizabeth struggled to sit up.

"We heard that name a year ago," Dean said.

"Fredric Lehne," Sam said to Dean. "He said it before he died."

"And she holds my contract?"

"If it wasn't the Crossroads Demon you made the Deal with or her boss Crowley," Ruby began, "than yes. It would be Lilith." She looked at Sam. "She's more powerful than any demon you've ever faced, Sam. You can't go after her." She sounded a little pleading, but also resigned like she already knew what Sam's next words would be.

"I don't have a choice," he told her. "I'm not letting her kill me, and she can't have Dean." He looked at his brother. "If it's the last thing I do, Lilith is going to die."

Dean didn't like it, Sam sensed, but he didn't raise any objections, either. It was a silent and weary group that departed the small neighborhood, leaving behind two witches who had sold their souls without ever meaning to.

* * *

><p>Dean drove the Impala out of town the next morning. He and Sam hadn't said much after the revelations of the day before, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. Truthfully, Dean wasn't entirely sure what he could even say in light of all of this. Everyone wanted Sam dead for being Azazel's best. This wasn't what Dean had had in mind when he'd kissed that Crossroads Demon to bring his brother back from the dead.<p>

He glanced over at Sam, who was starting silently out of the passenger-side window, face wiped blank of every emotion Dean had once been able to read so well. Would Sam's eyes be just as blank, too?

"What does 'erunt primi novissimi' mean?" he suddenly asked. "It sounded like Ruby was speaking Latin, but…"

"Yeah, it was," Sam said softly. He took a deep breath, let it out in the form of a sigh and looked over at Dean. "It means 'the first shall be the last'."

Dean frowned.

"When I researched all the special children of my generation," Sam began, "I discovered that I was the first one of the group born. There were three more boys before Danielle became the first girl of the group." He looked down at his knees. "I was the first one born, and I'm the last one left."

Dean didn't like where this was going, but he let Sam continue, let him get it all out.

"I think," Sam said after a moment, "that it was always supposed to be this way. I was Azazel's favorite, and not just because I had so much training and leadership qualities or whatever, but also because I was the first one born. I think that… that Dani knew that when she came into that graveyard. I mean, I know we've always scoffed at the idea of fate and all that, but…"

There was a long moment of silence.

"I think it always had to be me, Dean. I think I was always meant to be the one that lasted."

Dean didn't say anything, couldn't bring himself to look at his brother.

"Dean, I'm scared."

Dean pressed his teeth tightly against each other.

"… So am I," he finally admitted, glancing at Sam and taking in the emotions in his eyes. Sam blinked hard several times and nodded, looking back out the window. "I don't know what's coming," Dean forced himself to continue, "but we've gotta stick together if we're gonna make it. That means being honest with each other about everything, okay?"

Sam nodded again and there was more silence.

"I went to see the Crossroads Demon back in June," Sam finally said. Dean tightened his grip on the Impala's steering wheel, but kept his silence. Yelling wouldn't do any good. "I wanted to know who held your contract, but all she told me was that it was the same demon who wanted me dead. No one had a name for me." Sam gave a humorless laugh. "It never did occur to me that I might already know the name."

"Neither of us thought about it," Dean said. "There's been too much going on, but now we've got more info. If Lilith is the demon Azazel wanted to set free, and if she's really the demon involved with the things that priest knew, then there's a chance that maybe we can figure out what Azazel was planning."

"And if the demons are still trying to bring his plans to pass," Sam added, "then we can maybe put a stop to them."

Dean nodded. "We need to call Bobby."

And the Impala sped down the road.

* * *

><p>Ruby needed to think, so she settled herself in a remote location (if you could call the top of the Chrysler Building remote) and stared out across New York City's landscape with its tall, tall buildings and teeming population. So much to do, so little time.<p>

Was there enough time?

Ruby had studied long and hard, learning what had to be done to unlock the door to the cage, but she had never thought things would be this difficult once she managed to get topside. But then, she had also thought that Azazel was going to follow his own plan to the letter.

Azazel was supposed to still be alive, directing his leader (his chosen one, the winner of the games) while seeking out a righteous man to send to the Pit, down to Alistair to be pushed far and hard enough into breaking the first Seal.

But Azazel was dead, Lilith was wreaking havoc, the chosen one barely wanted a thing to do with her, and the righteous man had just over seven months left to live. She knew she didn't have Dean's trust, and that she just barely had Sam's, so how could she ensure that things still played out the right way without revealing her true intentions?

"_True demons are plenty conniving," Azazel had said to her once, "but they don't remember where they came from, who they once were. They don't know how to be anything other than tough, sarcastic, mean, angry and destructive beings, but you… Ruby, you're different. You can adapt better than any other demon in this pit of fire. When the Devil's Gate is opened, you will have a place beside the chosen, a place beside the one who will finally release our Master."_

Yes, Ruby could adapt. Yes, she knew what had to be done. But she hadn't ever expected a man like Sam Winchester to be the chosen one, and she certainly hadn't expected him to have a brother like Dean.

Ruby was all alone in the world. No one knew what the end game really was, not even Lilith, the first of all the demons.

_Erunt primi novissimi._

Ruby could only hope that she had what it took to make sure the plan turned out right.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	13. Thirteen: Prisoners

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Thirteen: Prisoners  
><strong>

**This was one of those chapters that went through many rewrites as I tried to figure out what the hell I was even doing. It's also very Roxanne-centric, and with good reason. Anyway, there's a brief mention of 3.14 "Long-Distance Call" (cause I can write this in whatever order I please lol) and a some dialogue and stuff from 3.06 "Red Sky at Morning". Really, this chapter mostly takes place during the ghost-ship storyline, but like I said: this is more about Roxy than the boys. For now. Also, there's some FBI and Gordon and a surprise!appearance, but I'll shut up before I give it all away. Now go! Read! Enjoy! :D**

* * *

><p><em>"[Sam]'s a freak of nature… He's not even fully human."<em>

— _Gordon Walker, "Demon's Trial"_

* * *

><p>It was cold and everything ached.<p>

_I've never hurt like this before._

What was going on? Why was it so cold?

_Where am I?_

Roxy opened her eyes slowly, blinking in the harsh light that surrounded her and the chair she was —

_Oh God, I'm tied up and I don't know where I am and where's Taryn, please let her be okay, can this just be a fucking nightmare and I'm not alone who's there?_

Roxy struggled, already knowing it was a lost cause, but froze when the presence she'd only just sensed out of the corner of her eye stepped out of the shadows and into her sick rendition of a spotlight.

"Hello, Roxanne."

Roxy swallowed hard, wincing at the roughness in her throat and wishing she had a glass of water.

"Who are you?" she asked, staring up at the man as he stepped closer to her. "What's going on? Where the fuck am I?"

The man smiled, white teeth gleaming against a face much darker than her own and black eyes glittering with a depraved excitement that sent chills down Roxy's spine.

He finally said, "My name is Gordon Walker" and Roxy knew she was in deep, deep trouble.

* * *

><p>After that demon, Ruby had delivered Alexia into Roxy and Taryn's home, there had been a thick tension running between the three women as they tried to figure out what to do next. Taryn was still upset that she'd been kept in the dark about Sam, Dean and Danielle for so long, but she was still sleeping in the same bed as Roxy, which meant their relationship wasn't in danger of being over, even if it meant that there were major trust issues to be worked through when trust had never been an issue before.<p>

Alexia may not have remembered much of her time being a demon's transportation device, but it became apparent pretty quickly that she was scared of being alone and without protection. Roxy asked Sam to send over an anti-possession charm, but it wasn't enough. Less than a week after her return to Utah, Alexia was asking to move in with her cousin and Roxy.

"What about your mom?" Taryn asked in concern. "She's not gonna like the abrupt move from the basement apartment."

"I don't care," Alexia said. "I graduated two years ago, it was more than time for me to find my own place and you know what you're doing, right?"

Taryn glanced at Roxy, who nodded silently.

"Then I _want_ to be where I feel safe," Alexia said in a firm voice, "and _this_ is that place."

And so they gained a new roommate.

It was strange at first, having Alexia living with them, turning Danielle's empty space into her own, contributing to the rent and groceries and occasionally messing around on the piano (she'd taken a few lessons as a child, but was never as into it as Roxy and Danielle had been), but as she began to settle into her new circumstances, Roxy found herself slowly beginning to relax, as well.

It definitely helped that the older redhead was accepting of their relationship when Taryn's family was still adjusting to the fact that their only daughter (Taryn had three older brothers who were very good at scaring the shit out of Roxy before she toughened up and stopped taking their crap) was never going to settle down with a nice young _man_ and pop out babies in a timely manner, and what was this, the 1800s? No one thought like that anymore.

It also helped that Alexia was a much better cook than Danielle had ever been (Danielle was good at doing the basics, but Alexia was practically a master chef). She also got a job across town at BYU as a part-time professor, and she gradually began to take over the spare bedroom with all the assignments she had to grade since she didn't have an office once the fall semester began.

Roxy suffered from fairly bad food poisoning near the end of September and ended up missing a day of school while she recovered. After that, everything went to hell.

That first Wednesday back at school went just fine. Roxy was in her final year and getting ready for her senior project, which wasn't until spring semester, but the sooner she figured out what she was going to do, the better. She turned down two offers to be stage manager for some student shows that conflicted with other projects she'd already agreed to work on, told a new kid at the movie theater via texting that she only worked double Sunday shifts when school was in session so could he please stop asking her to take his shifts? and had lunch with Taryn.

She stayed late at the library, doing some research on some period costumes for a show she'd agreed to be costume designer for — costuming and stage management were Roxy's specialties — so she could get some ideas for what Jeff might want for his senior project. It was nearing eleven o'clock when she finally left school for home.

That night, Alexia suffered her twelfth night of nightmares in a row, and Taryn whispered in the darkness of their bedroom that maybe her cousin needed a therapist or something.

The most difficult thing about Alexia's return to normal life was that they had to let the authorities know that she wasn't missing anymore. Alexia had to say that she couldn't remember what had happened to her or how she ended up back stateside, which was mostly true, given that she'd been completely suppressed by a demon at least 95% of the time she'd been missing, and the mystery was left as just that.

"You know the moment she starts saying that she watched her body do things that she wasn't in control of that any therapist in their right mind is going to classify her as certifiable," Roxy told her lover softly. "Honestly, all we can do is try to be there for her."

"What about Sam?" Taryn asked. "He helped Dani, didn't he?"

Roxy sighed and nodded against her pillow. "I just worry about bringing him or Dean anywhere near us when the FBI wants them locked up in prison for the rest of their lives." _Which is only until April and then who knows what Sam will do after that if he can't save Dean,_ she thought to herself.

"But they left," Taryn said. "It's been months."

"Doesn't mean they won't try to keep their eyes on us," Roxy replied. "Sam would be the best option, but it's not viable right now."

Taryn didn't like it, but she did, at least, understand.

Thursday dawned bright and sunny, and when Alexia came into the kitchen with noticeable bags under her eyes, Taryn couldn't help but ask if her cousin wanted to talk about it.

"No," Alexia said shortly, and that was the end of that.

Roxy stayed late at school again that night for a meeting with Jeff so they could talk about inspirations for the costumes and set with Bridget. They finished close to midnight and headed off in different directions.

Roxy was alone in the parking lot as she approached her car, which was parked in a shady corner. She never heard anyone come up behind her, and then a covered hand slapped across her mouth and the world faded away despite her struggles.

* * *

><p>"I've heard of you," Roxy said to Gordon Walker, trying to sound brave and tough despite her dry mouth and throat.<p>

"I'm not surprised," Gordon replied easily. "You've been friends with a freak that sided with a demon and tried to end the world."

Roxy narrowed her eyes. "Danielle wasn't trying to _end the world_ —"

"I was talking about Sam," Gordon cut her off, "but I guess your dead best friend fits the description pretty well, too." He leaned forward slightly. "Which of them opened the Devil's Gate in Wyoming?"

"I don't know," Roxy said at once, but she could tell the Hunter knew she was lying.

Gordon chuckled and dragged a chair into the light before dropping into it and leaning forward. "See," he said, "I want to say that Sam did it, but there's a few things wrong with that scenario."

"Like?" Roxy prompted.

"Sam's still alive and in the company of misguided Hunters while your best friend is dead with a bullet wound that pierced her lung and an artery," Gordon said, ignoring Roxy's sharp intake of breath at his blunt words. "Takes skill to pull off a shot like that, Roxanne, something only a Hunter like Sam or Dean coulda done."

Roxy clenched her jaw and said nothing in response.

Gordon grinned again. "I have a lot of questions for you, Roxanne Parker," he said, "and I really do expect honest answers from you."

"What if I don't tell you a damn thing?" Roxy asked, because she needed to know just what was at stake here.

Gordon leaned back in his chair, his grin melting into a cold smile. "I'll kill everyone you love, starting with your girlfriend and her ex-meatsuit of a cousin."

Roxy gasped.

"Yeah, I know about Alexia," Gordon said. "I've been watching your little family in that little house for the last month, waiting for the perfect opportunity to swoop in and get what I want. I can only imagine how terrified your girlfriend's gonna be when she realizes you've yet to come home." He stood and dragged the chair back into the darkness before returning with a wicked-looking knife in one hand.

Roxy's heart slammed against her chest as her fear rocketed sky high.

"Now," Gordon said in a calm voice, "let's begin."

* * *

><p>Taryn hadn't wanted to fall asleep before Roxy could come home on Thursday night, but she'd been working so hard on her thesis paper for her senior project and was so exhausted from the long hours of research that she'd almost passed out at her desk. So, she'd sent a text to Roxy, saying she might be asleep when she got home and to wake her up when she showed up. She was asleep in bed maybe ten minutes later, and didn't wake up until her alarm clock went off the next morning. Roxy still wasn't there.<p>

"Roxy's car isn't here," Alexia said the moment Taryn came out of her bedroom. "Did she already leave?"

Taryn took a deep breath, trying to keep from panicking. "She… Lex, I don't think she ever came home."

Alexia's eyes went wide. "What?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. Taryn yanked her tangled locks into a messy bun as she all but ran to the door, yanking it open and gaping at the police officer standing there.

"Is this the home of Roxanne Parker?" he asked, looking grim.

Taryn nodded. "Yeah," she managed after a moment. "Yeah, uh… I'm Taryn Fisher, Roxy's girlfriend, we listed each other as our emergency contacts. Can I help you?"

The office looked down at her with something like pity in his eyes. "Is she here, by chance?"

Trayn closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm as she shook her head. "She was staying out late at school last night, working on a play," she said. "I texted her around eleven PM to say I would probably be asleep when she got home and to wake me up when she did, but…" She swallowed hard. "What's happened?"

The officer sighed. "I'm gonna need you to come with me to the station," he said, and Taryn felt her stomach drop out.

"She's missing, isn't she." It wasn't a question.

"Do you want to get dressed first?" the officer said instead of answering.

Taryn nodded mutely and turned away. "You can wait in the front room if you want." She retreated into her bedroom and shut the door, staring blankly at the bed, at Roxy's dirty laundry almost overflowing the hamper next to the closet, at that stupid wig Roxy wore to work so no one could take offense at her bright red hair.

It took another minute before she forced herself to move, to throw on clothes and brush her hair before leaving her room. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings as the officer drove her to a police station in Orem and guided her into a waiting room. She barely even reacted when a man and woman stepped into the room.

"I'm Detective Warren," the man said, "and this is my partner, Detective Reynolds."

Taryn looked up and smiled slightly. "Hi," she said. The detectives sat down the couch adjacent to her chair.

"Can we get you anything?" Reynolds asked after a moment, all gentle brown eyes under short blonde hair.

Taryn shook her head. "What happened to Roxy?"

Warren glanced at Reynolds and sighed. "UVSC's campus police discovered Miss Parker's car in a remote corner up the upper student parking lot this morning. Her backpack was found next to her car along with a cloth that contained dried traces of chloroform."

Taryn squeezed her eyes shut.

"Her cell phone was also missing, but her wallet and keys had been left behind," Warren continued. "Miss Fisher, do you know of anyone who might want to hurt your girlfriend?"

Taryn felt vaguely impressed by the lack of hesitation in the question. Same-sex couples were generally frowned upon in Happy Valley (well, most of Utah, to be honest). She swallowed and looked down at her clenched hands on her knees. How was she supposed to answer that question?

"Miss Fisher," Reynolds said hesitantly, "we're aware that your girlfriend had uh, dealings with two men wanted by the FBI —"

"Sam and Dean would _never_ kidnap Roxy," Taryn snapped before she could stop herself.

"You know the Winchester brothers, Miss Fisher?"

Taryn eyed the detectives warily. "I met them a couple times, but we never delved deeply into their history until later, and even then, I trust Roxy and the Young's, which means I trust the Winchesters, as well."

The detectives exchanged looks. "I don't know who would kidnap Roxy," Taryn finally said. "There's nothing that either of us knows that could _possibly_ interest another human being." Monsters, on the other hand…

The detectives promised to do whatever they could, and then Taryn was left alone to sit in the waiting room, heart heavy with fear.

* * *

><p>Sam's cell phone started vibrating Friday night and he barely restrained a sigh of relief. After learning about Lilith, Dean had called Bobby, exchanging the new information for a haunting up in Virginia followed by crocotta in Ohio (and that one really sucked, what with the damn creature trying to lure Dean in by pretending to be their father), and now they were in North Carolina.<p>

"You brought your phone with you?" Ms. Gert Case, a creepy-stalker-like old lady whom Sam was forced to entertain while Dean worked with that stupid Bela Talbot so they could solve their latest case, looked up at Sam with a suggestive, yet disciplinary look on her face. Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably and prayed she wouldn't grab his ass again as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID.

_Roxanne Parker_

"I'm sorry, Ms. Case," Sam said as politely as he could manage, "but it's a business call, I really can't just let it go through. I'll be right back."

"Promise?" Ms. Case asked almost breathily.

Sam restrained the urge to run. "Yes, ma'am," he said, pulling away and quickly leaving the party room to stand in a corner of the entryway of the Sea Pines Maritima Museum. "Hey, Roxy, your timing was unbelievably perfect."

Roxy laughed before breaking into coughs. "Are you okay?" Sam asked, instantly concerned.

"Yeah," Roxy managed after a few moments, "just dealin' with a cold, is all. What did I manage to save you from?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Ms. Case hadn't followed him. "A creepy old lady," he admitted. "Kept flirting and telling me how I reminded her of her last husband and grabbing my ass. It's just… _really_ fuckin' creepy."

Roxy laughed again before coughing some more. "Do I dare…" she coughed again, "_ugh_ — ask why you had an old lady creepin' on ya?"

Sam sighed. "I'm supposed to keep her distracted while Dean steals a Hand of Glory from this museum." It really would've been easier to just let Sam do it, but no. Dean was very… _eager_ to prove his own thievery skills against that of Bela. Stupid manly pride and hormones, Sam thought with a mild scowl.

"Ew," Roxy said hoarsely. "I saw one of those in that Harry Potter film with the giant snake. It's not gonna grab anyone, is it?"

Sam chuckled. "No," he said. "We just have to burn it and then the ghost we're hunting will be gone." He glanced over his shoulder again before leaning against the wall behind him. "So, what's up? You're not exactly the type to make a social call."

"True enough," Roxy said before coughing and sniffling a bit. "It's — Alexia's havin' nightmares and losin' sleep."

Sam felt all that relief from escaping Ms. Case's claws vanish instantly. "Have you and Taryn tried talking to her?"

"She keeps turning us down," Roxy said, "and I'd say go to a therapist, but —"

"She'd probably end up at the mental state hospital in town," Sam finished, nodding, "and Harry's not in a position to be of any help."

Danielle's father worked as a psychiatrist at that hospital in Provo, but he worked in the children's unit, which did them no good.

"Exactly," Roxy said. "The FBI left back in June, so" she sniffed hard and groaned before continuing, "d'you think that you and Dean could come visit for a few days, maybe try and help her out? It's been over a month since her nightmares started and that bothers me."

"Yeah," Sam said. "Of course. We're clear out on North Carolina's coastline right now, but we should have this job finished up by tonight if not tomorrow. I'll call when we hit the Utah border, okay?"

"Awesome," Roxy coughed. "Have fun with your dead hand thing."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, and you take care." He hit the 'end' button on his phone, tucked it into his jacket, and steeled himself to return to Ms. Case's side.

"Call me Gert," she told him when he returned and apologized for stepping away. Then she was right back in his space, holding him close as they danced. God, champagne was _not_ strong enough to help him deal with this. _Dean, you owe me._

* * *

><p>Roxy started coughing again the moment the phone call ended. "Good job," Gordon breathed softly. "Now, where is Sam Winchester?"<p>

"N- North Carolina," Roxy replied between gasps. "Coast. Finishing a job."

"And then he is going to come here?"

Roxy nodded jerkily.

"And he suspects nothing?"

"No," Roxy managed to say. "No one but me h-has his number, wouldn't be able to call him."

"Very good," Gordon said. "You've been… most helpful."

"G'to Hell," Roxy returned, and Gordon laughed.

"I'm sure that's where your best friend ended up," he replied with good cheer, "and that's exactly where I plan to send Sam once I'm done with him."

Roxy glared up at the crazy Hunter through her red bangs.

"Well, now that we're done here…" He lifted up Roxy's cell phone and started doing something on it, gloved hands sticky with Roxy's blood. God, that fucking hammer on her _burningwithpainprobablybroken_ arm, what a fucking _psycho_…

"What're you doin'?" Roxy almost slurred, blinking heavily.

"I have to let your girl know where your body is somehow," Gordon said, clicking away on the phone before snapping it closed and tucking it in the back of his jeans.

"Wha—?"

Gordon pulled his gun free and Roxy froze, trembling from fear and pain. "St. Peter's gonna have a blast figuring out where to send you," he said, letting off the safety, pointing the gun at Roxy and smirking. "I'll tell Sam you said 'hi'."

Then he pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p>When her phone beeped with a new text message, Taryn didn't think much of it. It was probably Alexia or maybe Roxy's parents, freaking out or wanting to know of any possible developments. She sighed and flipped it open.<p>

_Roxanne Parker_

"Hey!" she shouted, shooting out of her seat and running towards the detectives. "Hey, you said Roxy's phone went missing with her, right?"

Reynolds looked up from her computer. "Yes," she said. "Have you —?"

Taryn opened the message and began to read aloud.

"_I'm sending you this text on your lesbian lover's phone to let you know that the GPS signal will be active for the next ten minutes. After that, you're on your own. Move fast, she's bleeding out pretty quickly."_ Taryn's voice got fainter and fainter as she read, becoming almost a whisper near the end. There was a second of silence, and then the office exploded into a flurry of activity.

"We're going to find her," Warren promised as he and Reynolds headed for the exit. "We'll find her and bring her back alive, I promise."

Taryn nodded as they left. _Please find her alive,_ she thought helplessly. _Please._

* * *

><p>"Back to Utah?" Dean asked dubiously. "The FBI only cleared outta there back in what, June? They might still have their eyes on Roxy and the Danielle's family."<p>

Sam rolled his eyes from where he was packing of up things. "Alexia needs help," he said, "and you know I'm probably the best person to give it to her."

Dean sighed and scrubbed at his face. "Still…"

Just then, there was a knock at the door of the house they had been squatting in for the last few days. "Bela," Sam said after a second. Dean scowled and headed over to the door.

He'd never had a chance to talk to Bela before this job (other than her acting like a waitress to get that rabbit's foot from his pocket back in New York), but Sam's description of her had been pretty spot-on. She was blunt, conniving and annoying as hell, but her attitude and almost playful banter were a little amusing to spend time with. In small doses, though. "What now?" he asked as he opened the door.

Bela had her bag over one shoulder. "I don't like being in debt to anyone," she said, brushing past him and into the house. "And you two saved my life."

Sam raised his eyebrows from the other side of the front room, but said nothing.

"How do you expect to uh, _clear_ this sudden debt you owe us?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Bela dropped her bag on the table and zipped it open. "You gave the spirit what he wanted most," she said to Sam, pulling out two large, wrapped wads of money. "His own brother. It was very clever, Sam."

"Thanks," Sam said dryly. "Do I dare ask how much you're handing over?"

"It's $10,000, hard cash," Bela replied with a small shrug.

"Wow," Dean said. "Nice to know that throwing out money is easier than a simple 'thank you'. You're so damaged."

Bela shot Dean a smirk as she zipped her bag closed and tossed it over one shoulder. "Takes one to know one," she said. "Goodbye, lads." And with that, she sailed out the door and off to probably go scam some other old lady with stupid séances and shit.

"She's got style," Dean finally said. Sam snorted, but nodded his agreement.

"So, to Utah?" he asked after a moment.

Dean sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Let's go psycho-analyze the girl your little demon follower rode for over a month."

"She's not my follower," Sam said with a scowl.

"Whatever you say, freaky brother of mine," Dean replied breezily, grabbing his bags and heading out to the Impala. He never saw the flash of hurt that crossed Sam's face.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey, Roxy."<em>

_Roxy blinked, trying to make the world come into focus, and when she did… "Dani? Where — what's — I don't understand!"_

"_I know," Danielle said softly, standing in a flowing, knee-length white dress that looked just like the one she had been buried in, "you're confused, but I need you to listen to me, there isn't much time."_

"_Time? What —?"_

"_Listen!" Danielle swallowed and gripped Roxy's shoulders tightly. "I need you to tell Sam something for me."_

"_Tell Sam? I still don't…"_

_Danielle squeezed her eyes shut. "Gordon Walker shot you. You're in surgery or something right now and you're gonna live, but I need you get a message to Sam."_

_Roxy stared at Danielle. "What's going on? Is this Hell?"_

"_NO," Danielle said in a loud voice. "This isn't Hell and you're not dead, all right?" She shook Roxy by her shoulders slightly. "Now _listen_ to me."_

"_So it's Heaven?"_

_Danielle actually growled. "I actually managed to slip away from there, if you really must know and it was a bitch to do with all the soldiers Zachariah insists on having stand guard over me and Jared and —" She broke off and shook her head. "Not the point right now. I need you to listen!"_

"_Wait, you're in Heaven? With Jared? After what you did?" Roxy blinked. "You have guards?"  
><em>

_Danielle stepped away and sighed. "I was forcefully contracted by angels to do their bidding," she said. "Meaning that I had__ to do the things that I did and they'll never just leave me be, not for the rest of eternity."_

_Roxy stared. "So wait. You're saying that Dean was _supposed_ to make that Deal?"_

_Danielle's shoulders slumped. "Yeah," she said. "Sam and Dean have been dealt the worst hand in the history of everything ever, and everyone is against them, against _Sam._ No one is going to help them fight their way out of it. Dean _is_ going to go to Hell, but he is _not_ gonna stay there."_

"_What?"_

"_That's the message," Danielle said, voice turning urgent. "Tell Sam that Dean won't be in the Pit forever. He's going to come back, and he'll still be human, too. You've gotta remember that, okay?"_

"_But why did angels tell you to kill Sam? And how are you in Heaven?"_

"_Heaven's bitch," Danielle said dryly. Just then, the strange emptiness around the two woman shook with a force equal to that of violent thunder. "They found me," Danielle whispered, and Roxy was shocked to see how scared she looked._

"_Dani?"_

"_You've gotta go," Danielle said quickly. "Live, Roxy. Take care of yourself and Taryn and just… live, okay?"_

"_But I don't —!"_

"_LIVE!" Danielle slapped her open palm against Roxy's chest, right over her heart and it felt like she'd been shocked. "Castiel, Uriel, wait, please, I can explain —!" Everything exploded into pain, and then Roxy was falling to the sound of Danielle's screams_…_  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Roxy… Roxy, please wake up."<p>

_Live, okay?_

"Roxy, please I need you to open your eyes for me. They said you were waking up for reals this time, baby, please…"

_Dean won't be in the Pit forever. He's going to come back._

"Roxy? You awake?"

Roxy slowly blinked her eyes open. "Dani…"

There was a frustrated-sounding groan. "Roxy, it's not Danielle, it's me. I keep saying that…"

Everything slowly came into focus, from the beeping of the heart monitor to Taryn's red hair and anxious face.

"I saw her…" Roxy coughed and winced at how _dry_ her throat was. Why was she in a hospital?

"Who?" Taryn asked, instantly reaching for a mug of water with a straw, which she carefully held to Roxy's lips. "Dani? Roxy, she's dead." Roxy gratefully took a few sips before slumping back against the hospital bed.

"I _know_ that," she told Taryn. "I _saw_ her, but I don't remember…" Roxy coughed some more.

"You seriously dreamed about Danielle?" Taryn asked, sounding slightly bewildered.

"No… yes, I mean it wasn't a dream or an old memory, it happened —" Roxy groaned and raised her hands, taking in the IV attached to one and the cast on the other; the cast went from the palm of her hand to just below her elbow. "Did he break my arm?"

"Did _who_ break your arm?" asked Taryn anxiously. "Roxy, you've been in a coma for almost a week, that gunshot wound to the stomach… you almost bled out —" She broke off on a choked sob and Roxy blinked. "I thought I'd never see you again…"

"Shot…" Everything seemed hazy and confusing. When was she shot? Who broke her arm? Maybe she needed to call Sam —

And then everything came flooding back.

"He's gonna kill him," she breathed as the door to her room opened.

"Who's gonna kill who?" It was Victor Henricksen, that FBI agent, and he was actually alone.

"She just barely woke up," Taryn said, shooting to her feet and looking defensive. "Can't you wait until after the doctor looks her over, makes sure she's really okay?"

"Your partner was tortured for the better part of 24 hours," Henricksen said bluntly. "I need to know who did it so I can find them and stop them before they hurt anyone else."

Roxy coughed. "Probably too late on that one," she rasped. "You said nearly a week?"

Taryn nodded. "I got a text message last Friday night, said your GPS was going to be on for ten minutes, and the cops found you. It's been a little over six days since they brought you to the hospital."

"Where was I? Did I still have my phone on me?"

"An abandoned farmhouse somewhere outside of Payson," Taryn answered, and her breath hitched. "And no, your phone was gone by the time the cops and ambulance got there. I don't —" Another choked sob escaped the redhead's lips. "I don't think the guy who had you meant for you to live, Rox."

"No," Roxy mused softly, "he didn't."

"Do you know who your attacker was?" Henricksen asked. Roxy glanced at him and nodded. "Can you give me a name, maybe a description?"

Roxy closed her eyes and swallowed hard, hating that her throat still felt so damn _dry._ "His name is Gordon Walker," she said, a shudder coursing through her as she remembered his dark face and crazed eyes. "He's a psycho, escaped a prison transfer over in Indiana back at the beginning of May."

Henricksen frowned. "The name sounds familiar," he said quietly.

"He wanted me to find out where Sam Winchester was," Roxy said, feeling tears prick at her eyes as she recalled the knives, the fucking _hammer_ on her arm —

"Sam Winchester? Why?"

"Thinks Sam's the Anti-Christ," Roxy sighed. "Gordon killed his college friend, Rebecca Warren, and by now he's already got Sam."

Taryn looked away, eyes shuttered.

Henricksen frowned like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Anti-Christ? Seriously?"

"Sam's gonna lead an army that's made up of _demons_ and take over the world in Gordon's mind," Roxy said. "Like I said, he's a fucking psycho."

"But Dean isn't the type to just let his brother be taken —"

"You don't get it," Roxy cut the agent off. "Gordon has cohorts, three of them. Finn Carlton, George Creedy and Weyland Kubrick. They have a drug to incapacitate Sam _completely_, probably planned out their fucking ambush the moment I got Sam to promise that he was going to come here and talk to Alexia, and they _have my phone._ No one else has Sam's number but me, and Gordon fucking _took_ it. God, he might try to kill them _both_ for all I know!"

Henricksen blinked. "Wait a minute. Sam was coming back here to talk to your new roommate? Why?"

"Because he can relate," Taryn snapped. "Look, you got the information you needed. Would you mind leaving now?"

But Henricksen didn't move. "Why is this… psycho really determined to take out a serial killer and his partner-in-crime?"

"They aren't killers," Roxy snapped before coughing for several seconds. "Sam and Dean… They are fucking _heroes_, and you — you can't _see_ it. They've been dealt the worst hand in the history of everything _ever_, and _no one_ is going to help them fight their way out of it."

Where had those words come from? They seemed so familiar…

_I need you to tell Sam something for me._

Roxy swallowed and forced herself to sit up. "Look, Agent. If Sam gets threatened or hurt, Dean takes out whoever is responsible. He would do _anything_ for his brother, and Sam would do the same for him."

"I just don't understand any of this," Henricksen said after a moment.

Roxy grit her teeth. "And until you learn to face reality as it really is, you _never will_. Those men are going to _kill_ Sam if they haven't already, and it's all my fault. Get out."

Henricksen stared at Roxy for a very long moment before nodding and leaving the room. Taryn moved in closer and cupped Roxy's cheeks as she slumped back in bed.

"It's not your fault," she breathed as some nurses finally entered the room. "Sam won't blame you, and neither does Dean, I know it."

Roxy smiled and nodded, but she couldn't bring herself to believe Taryn's words. If Sam died, then it was all on her, and all because she wasn't strong enough to withstand the things that Gordon had done.

"You don't believe me," Taryn sighed, stepping back to let the nurses close enough to do their thing.

"No," Roxy sighed. "I should've been stronger."

"Roxy, we're not _trained_ to handle torture," Taryn said sharply as the nurses poked and prodded at Roxy. "You held out as long as you could, and you're still alive — that's _all_ I care about."

"But Sam —"

"We aren't in charge of Sam's life," Taryn cut her off. "He lasted a _month_ in L.A., right?" Roxy nodded silently. "Then he'll get through this, too."

"We need to ask Miss Parker some questions," the only male nurse said.

"Hang on a sec," Taryn said, pushing past the nurse and grasping Roxy's hand with the IV tightly in her own. "I don't blame you," she said softly. "I trust you with my _life_, Roxy. You are stronger than you know, and I'm so fucking _proud_ of you for hanging in and surviving what that monster did to you." She placed her hands on the sides of Roxy's face, leaned down and kissed her. There was so much emotion put into that kiss that Roxy couldn't help but gasp out, tears escaping from her closed eyes as she responded.

"I love you," Taryn whispered when she finally pulled back. "Promise you'll never leave me."

"Never," Roxy replied just as quietly. "I love you so much."

Taryn gave her a smile filled with just as much emotion as the kiss and finally backed away to let the hospital staff finally do their job. Roxy still felt guilty about giving into to Gordon's demands, but she was alive, and Taryn was still there.

Roxy felt wayward and world-weary, but maybe it was enough for her to carry on.

Then she blinked. "Dean _does_ understand?"

Taryn sighed. "It's a long story…"

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	14. Fourteen: The Hunter's Prey

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Fourteen: The Hunter's Prey**

**RL is kicking my butt, but here we go, the next chapter. I don't think I'll be able to get another one out until at least after Christmas, maybe after the new year, but we'll see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and Happy Holidays!**

* * *

><p><em>"If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story, that's our job."<em>

_"Oh, right, anything_ supernatural. _Why don't you just put a gun to my head and take out one more thing, then?"_

"_What? Sam, you're _nothing _like the things we hunt."_

— _Dean and Sam Winchester, "Supernatural vs. Evil"_

* * *

><p>It was Tuesday afternoon when Sam and Dean pulled into a gas station off of I-80. They had left North Carolina two days ago with two giant wads of money, courtesy of Bela; Dean had insisted on stopping at one point so they could replenish their supplies and replace some of the older weapons with newer ones. Sam had tried wondering out loud about what Bela could have done to get that ghost to come after her, but Dean hadn't cared much. Bela's business was her own and no one else's, according to him. Sam figured he was still pissed over the fact that the woman had managed to pickpocket him twice now.<p>

"Gas up the car," Dean said to Sam, "I need to take a leak."

Sam nodded, refocusing his thoughts, and got out of the Impala, heading around the car to the pump and swiping one of his credit cards before starting to gas up the Impala. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Roxy's number.

It rang a few times. _"Hey, you've reached Roxy Parker's voicemail. I'm probably in class or something right now, so just leave a message and I'll call ya back!"_

"Hey, Roxy," Sam said after the beep, "it's Sam. I hope everything's going okay with you and Taryn and Alexia. Anyway, we're in Evanston, Wyoming, just a few miles from the border. We should reach Provo around dinnertime, so if I don't hear from you before then, I'll call again after we check into a motel. Call me back, thanks." He hit the 'end' button and stuffed his phone into his pants as he leaned against the car's trunk and waited for Dean to come back out.

That was when something stung the back of his neck.

"Ow," he hissed, reaching up and wondering how he'd missed hearing the buzz of whatever bee or wasp had gotten him. Then his fingers touched something very much not an insect. He pulled his hand back into his eyesight, the small item in his hand.

It was tranq dart.

"Dean," Sam said without really thinking, reaching out with his mind to try and figure out what was going on as his vision started to blur. "What…" He blinked hard several times and pressed back against the car, trying to stay upright.

Then he felt another sting on his neck. Sam reached up to grab the second dart and stared at the two, trying to understand what was going on. "Dean…"

Everything felt slow and muddled. Sam stumbled forward and dropped to his knees as he tried to focus, staring at the ground.

A set of boots attached to jean-clad legs stepped into his field of rapidly fading vision. Sam tried to reach out with his mind to figure out who the person was, but all he could tell was that it wasn't Dean.

"D'n…"

Another set of feet approached, and then Sam felt hands grabbing him. "No…"

Sam's last thought before he lost consciousness was that he was _so_ screwed, and then he was gone.

* * *

><p>Dean stepped out of the convenience store with two large drinks and frowned when he didn't see Sam. Had he somehow missed him inside?<p>

"Sam!" he called out as he approached the car, set the cups on the Impala's trunk and pulled the gas pump free. "Sam?"

The gas station was surprisingly empty for the middle of the afternoon, Dean thought absently as he put the pump back in its slot and capped the Impala before flipping the license plate back into place. "Sammy —"

And then he spotted two brightly colored darts on the ground. Two brightly colored _tranquilizer_ darts.

_No,_ Dean's mind whispered._ No way. No _fucking _way._

"Sam!" Dean shouted, turned around completely, but he had to face the truth.

Sam was gone. He'd been _taken_, and Dean could think of only one person who could have done this.

A quick check of the gas station's security cameras only confirmed it. Dean watched grimly as Sam was pulled into a plain van with blacked-out plates by two men. One was built and colored like Gordon Walker, and the other looked like he could be Kubrick. It also seemed there was a third in the driver's seat. As soon as Dean stepped back out of the convenience store, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Bobby's number, waiting impatiently for the Hunter to pick up.

"Hey," Bobby answered, "I was just about to call ya, I finally found some information regarding this Lilith demon —"

"Bobby, Sam's been taken."

Bobby broke off. "What?"

"He's gone," Dean snapped. "There's two tranq darts on the ground."

"You don't think —?"

"I checked the security cameras at this gas station," Dean said grimly. "Gordon Walker kidnapped my brother. I'm gonna find the sonuvabitch and _kill_ him for this."

"Where are you?"

"Evanston, Wyoming."

"I'm on my way. Stay there, get a motel and wait. I'll bring Ellen and Jo, we're gonna need all the help we can get."

"I'm not waiting here," Dean said shortly. "I'm crossing Utah's border and checking into a place in Park City. Call me when you're there." He snapped his phone shut and picked up the darts. The mother-fucking _bastard_ was going to pay for this with his life. No more games, no more letting the law do its thing. _No one_ took Sam from Dean and got away with it. _No one._

* * *

><p>"You really think it'll work?"<p>

Gordon rolled his eyes before glaring at Creedy. "I'm positive," he said. "Now stop talking."

Creedy scowled, but said nothing.

It had been almost _too_ easy to knock Sam Winchester out. Some seventeen hours of torture had given Gordon more intelligence on the psychic freak than he'd ever expected to get out of a mere civilian, but it had definitely been useful.

"_You said… list of Sam's 'bilities?" Roxy pants out harshly, and Gordon knows he's finally made the break-through he's been waiting for._

"_According to a kid named Brady Walker over in Illinois," he says, grabbing his chair and dragging it close once again, "Sam's got telekinesis, elecktrokinesis, mind control, super strength, visions and uh, empathy."_

"_Doesn't… not all those, not anymore." Roxy's breathing is interrupted by harsh coughing, and Gordon forces himself to wait patiently for her to continue. She tips her head back and sniffs a few times, looking rather pathetic._

"_Some of his abilities are gone?" Gordon prompts._

_Roxy sighs. "After Dean shot Azazel," she answers. "Sam… electro-thing's gone, and the visions —" She breaks off into more coughing, bright red bangs hanging over her eyes as she whimpers in pain. Not that Gordon is surprised, of course. It can't be easy to think through the pain of a broken arm._

"_Strength thing's gone, too," she finally gasps out. "Still moves things and controls minds and feels emotions."_

_Telekinesis, mind control and empathy._

"_Sam senses demons, too."_

That_ is unexpected._

"_Does he have a range, a distance of some kind?"_

_Roxy coughs some more. "About 100 yards for demon-sensing, little less for empathy unless he tries… never tested other two."_

_Gordon nods. "All right. This is all very good to know." He leans forward. "Now, where's Sam right now?"_

"_I… God, I don't know," Roxy pants out. "But… I have his number… I could call him."_

Gordon stepped into the small room he had Sam tied up in. It'd been nearly five hours since the freak had been knocked out in Wyoming, and he was only just starting to show signs of waking up. Well, Dean _had_ said Sam was a lightweight when it came to booze last year during that vampire hunt in Montana, so maybe drugs were the same way, too.

Sam let out a groan and scrunched his face slightly before jerking his head up and forcing his eyes open. "Wha —?"

"Hey, there, Sammy," Gordon said, grinning as Sam's gaze focused on him from his metal chair. "Comfy? I hope so."

Sam glared, blinking a few times as he clearly tried to focus. "No, you don't," he finally said, pulling his arms against his restraints a few times and shaking his head. "Got me doped up?"

"What makes you think I did anything of the sort?" Gordon asked, leaning against the wall.

Sam shot him a scathing glare. "I can't sense you, you dick-less bastard. Not sensing anything equals drug." He blinked a few more times and took a deep breath. "You must've found a demon in Baltimore."

Gordon smiled slightly. "You really _are_ the smart one, aren't you?"

"That's the popular theory," Sam groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back for a moment. "You gonna talk and torture at me, or just go for the kill? It's not like I can do much right now, drugged up and all."

"If I wanted you dead right away, I would've shot you via sniper rifle back in Evanston," Gordon answered after a moment. He pushed off the wall and approached Sam, dropping to a crouch in front of him. "Trouble is, you know things. You used to have visions, and I've heard tell that you're the only one left from the freakshow Azazel had going 'fore big brother took him out."

Sam blinked at Gordon a few times. "So?"

Gordon snorted. "So," he said, "if anyone knows what's coming next, it's you."

Sam started laughing. "Don't know a damn thing," he finally said, shaking his head. "Go find the new leader and ask her. If she doesn't kill you first."

"Her?" Gordon asked. "Got a name?"

"… Nope."

Gordon narrowed his eyes and rose. "I'm sure there's plenty you can tell me, Sam. It's just gonna be up to you whether you talk willingly or not."

Sam stared at Gordon for a very long moment. "Not," he said simply, a brazen look of defiance on his face.

Gordon chuckled. "Have it your way," he said. It _was_ more fun this way, after all. He turned to leave Sam's room.

"You're due another dose in a few minutes," he tossed over his shoulder. "Carlton will be in to take care of it. Don't try to fight."

"Would never dream of it," Sam said dryly, "being de-clawed by a coward and all."

Gordon scowled and let the door swing shut behind him.

* * *

><p>"GPS is a no-go," Jo sighed early Wednesday morning, wincing as Dean practically growled in frustration. She looked over at her mother and Bobby. "What's next? I mean, Walker isn't gonna make contact, is he?" At least three Hunters had Sam. Walker had convinced three men that Sam was evil and needed to be put down like some kind of supernatural freak. Jo knew that Sam wasn't a freak, but not many Hunters were willing to see things in shades of grey.<p>

"It's very unlikely," Ellen replied. "He thinks Sam should be dead and considers us all to be idiots for not feelin' the same way."

Jo watched Dean run his hands through his spiky hair in frustration. "So what, then?"

"How did Gordon know you were coming here?" Jo asked.

"I don't know," Dean snapped, turning away. "We were in North Carolina with that Bela Talbot when Roxy Parker called and asked Sam to help her girlfriend's cousin get over her nightmares."

"The cousin that Ruby was possessing?" Jo clarified. Dean scowled, but nodded.

"Sam said we'd head straight here," he continued, "and that he'd call once we reached Utah's border —" He broke off and turned to look at Bobby. "What if Walker got to Roxy?"

Jo felt her breath catch. Civilians getting caught up in a Hunters' quarrel couldn't possibly end well.

"I need to find her," Dean said, heading for the motel room's door. They were staying in Park City, located close to two hours away from Provo. "I need to find her —"

"What if she _was_ taken by Walker and used to bring you here?" Ellen cut him off, moving to stand in front of the door. "If she's still alive and in a hospital, then you can bet the FBI will be there, thinking it was you and Sam who hurt her."

"I'd never —!"

"We _know_ that, Dean," Bobby cut him off, "but you know the FBI will see things differently."

"I'll go," Jo volunteered. "They probably don't think I've had any more interaction with you two after Baltimore, I should be safe."

"Not by yourself, you won't," Ellen said stubbornly, and Jo knew better than to fight with her mother. "We'll head over there, see what we can find out, okay?"

Dean clearly didn't like it, but after a few seconds, his posture slumped and he nodded. "Be careful, okay?"

Ellen smiled and dragged Dean's head down to plant a kiss on his forehead. "Always." She clapped Bobby on the shoulder and gave him a long look before they headed out.

"So," Jo said as they drove out of the city, "you think Bobby's hot?"

"Excuse me?" Ellen spluttered.

Jo glanced at her mother with raised eyebrows. "I've seen the way you look at him," she said. "It doesn't bother me, I hope you know that." She stared out at the road as she drove her father's truck through the mountain pass separating Park City from Utah Valley. "You deserve to have someone."

Ellen didn't really have anything to say to that.

* * *

><p>Sam coughed hard into his shoulder and tugged again at the restraints on his chair. There had been a rainstorm earlier that he could barely hear through the walls of his latest prison cell, making the temperature drop dramatically. That, added to repeated punches in his stomach and face from his captors left him cold, shivery and aching all over his abdomen.<p>

He wondered if the four Hunters would go any easier on him if he actually told them anything, but as far as he was concerned, there was no point. Once Dean found him, he was more than certain that the men would all face his older brother's wrath, and that that wrath would be deadly.

"I didn't sell my soul so some other demon could come along and kill you," Dean had told him only two weeks before. "Anyone tries to kill you, I'll kill them first."

Sam had laughed, but even then he'd known that Dean was serious.

"Dean's gonna kill ya," he wheezed up at Gordon, who chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't expect him to find you before you're dead," he said calmly, "and I gotta say, it's still such a shame to me that he didn't kill you clear back in Montana when you said he should've."

Sam winced, remembering yelling at a grieving Dean in the parking lot of a crap-hole motel in Red Lodge, Montana that maybe anything supernatural should be taken out, including himself. He'd said it to try and get Dean to leave that vamp nest alone, but Gordon had overheard the conversation. At the time, Dean had insisted that Sam was just another psychic. Unfortunately, Gordon had since learned otherwise. He still didn't seem to know that Sam had been fed Azazel's blood as a baby and that he'd even been addicted to demon's blood at one point, but it seemed that the Hunter at least knew of his abilities and some of the things he'd been up to.

"Roxanne was very forthcoming after finding the right method of persuasion," Gordon had told him early on in the interrogation. "Getting her to lure you here was pretty easy after that. Shooting her dead was even easier."

Sam didn't want to believe the man's words, but without his abilities, he just had no way of knowing for sure. It was a hard realization to accept that he had become too reliant upon his abilities to help him and Dean solve their cases and avoid a lot of trouble.

"Why are you friends with a demon?" Gordon asked from behind him.

"Not friends," Sam insisted.

"So why did she hand over her host with little issue? Demons rarely leave their meatsuits in one piece."

Sam glared up at Gordon as he stepped back into his field of vision. "I. Don't. Know."

He took a punch to the face and grunted at the force of the impact.

"You keep lying to me, Sam," Gordon said with a sigh like all of this was a chore he wasn't enjoying. Sam suspected otherwise. "I _will_ get all the answers from you that I want, and then I'll kill you and save the world."

Sam coughed out a laugh. "Good luck… with that."

He was given another dose of the drug and left to bask in loneliness.

* * *

><p>Alexia Fisher dressed very differently from Ruby, wearing simple, yet modest outfits, her hair tied up neatly and her makeup fresh and simple (apart from that concealer under her eyes which <em>definitely<em> meant she wasn't sleeping well at all and now Jo wanted to tear Ruby a new one). "You look familiar," she said when she opened the front door, and while the voice sounded so very similar, the sarcasm and edginess were gone.

"I'm Ellen, and this is my daughter, Jo," Ellen said with that warm, welcoming smile she tended to give to those she was worried might be frightened by her tough love demeanor. "We're friends of Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Oh," Alexia said, brown eyes widening slightly. "Of course, I remember… I guess you heard about… about Roxy, then."

"Actually, that's what we're here about," Jo said. "Dean said that Roxy called Sam late Friday night and asked if they could both come here to uh, talk. With you."

Alexia frowned. "Friday night? But Roxy…" She pressed her lips together for a long moment. "You should come in," she finally said.

The redhead stepped back, opening the front door wider, but only enough that the welcome mat couldn't be avoided. Jo instantly knew what this was about, and made sure to deliberately step on the mat before continuing into the house, her mother following suit. She pretended not to hear Alexia's sigh of relief, instead following the woman into the front room.

"Have a seat," Alexia said politely. "Can I get you anything? Milk? Water?"

"Just water is fine, thanks," Ellen said with another warm smile. A few minutes later, Alexia carefully settled herself on a chair and neatly folded her hands together in her lap. Jo was again struck by how different Alexia was compared to Ruby, from the outfits to the voice and even her physical movements and habits.

"Roxy didn't come home from school Thursday night," Alexia said without preamble. "A cop came here Friday morning and told Taryn and myself that Roxy's car had been found in the student parking lot by the campus police. Her backpack, wallet and keys were left on the ground beside the car, along with a cloth that had dried chloroform on it." She sighed.

This was bad. "She was kidnapped? Do you know by who?" Jo asked.

Alexia shook her head. "Taryn went with the officer to a police station in Orem to talk to some detectives. They had little to go on until Taryn received a text from Roxy's phone later that night, saying that the GPS would be left on for ten minutes and that Roxy… that she was badly injured." Alexia sniffed, pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

"Is she…?" Jo couldn't bring herself to ask if Roxy was dead.

"She's still alive," Alexia answered quickly. "The GPS led the authorities to an abandoned barn outside of Payson, which is like, four towns south of here and life-flighted her to Provo's hospital. She'd been… tortured a-and shot in the stomach. They said…" Alexia blew her nose and wiped her eyes with the tissue before balling it up in her fist. "They said that if she'd been shot one inch higher, she would have been dead in a matter of minutes, but the bullet missed any major arteries, so she pulled through. She's been in a coma, though." Alexia blinked several times and looked away. "The doctors think she'll wake up sometime tomorrow, but they don't know for sure."

_The bullet missed any major arteries._ Roxy had almost died the same way as her dead best friend. Gordon had clearly meant the injury to be an insult. Dean was not going to take the news well.

"You said that Roxy called Sam Friday night?" Alexia asked hesitantly.

Jo nodded. "Your cousin and Roxy have been worried about you, and Dean said that Sam told him that he was probably the best person to uh, maybe talk to."

"Because of what happened to me," Alexia said quietly. "Being possessed."

Ellen nodded. "Sam had already said he felt incredibly guilty for not figuring out who you were sooner, but you should know that he's also been possessed by a demon."

"Roxy told me," Alexia said. "I'm not angry at him or anything. I just… I'm fine."

Jo pressed her lips together. "People who are fine don't have to cover up the rings under their eyes with concealer," she finally said, watching sadly as Alexia reached up to touch her face. "Look, not many people survive being possessed, and those that do are often plagued with nightmares. Some go insane."

"Sam's fine," Alexia said.

"He also knows how to talk to his family and friends," Ellen said. "It's a tough world and we have no one to depend on except each other. I have to trust that Jo will have my back if we go after the spirit of a serial killer with an affinity for blondes." Jo winced, remembering the case she had taken off to solve on her own. If Ellen hadn't come after her, she would have died in that sewer. "Jo has to trust that I can do my part if we go after a monster resembling the one that killed my husband. We can't let the past drag us down or it gets us killed."

Alexia sniffed and swiped at her nose with the wadded-up tissue again and nodded. "Do you know who took Roxy?"

"We have our suspicions," Ellen said, letting the subject get back on track.

"But nothing for certain," Jo quickly added. "There are a few Hunters who believe that Sam's some kind of demon savior or something and want him dead. If they know where to look, they can find the right bait to lure him in."

"And they must know about Roxy through the FBI," Alexia said. "Which means they knew about Danielle."

"It's a fair assumption," Ellen said. "Listen, we need to find Sam." She grabbed a pad of paper off the coffee table and started writing. "Here's my cell, Jo's, Bobby's and Dean's. If you could let us know when Roxy wakes up —"

"I will," Alexia said quickly. "In fact, I'll have her call you when I see her later today."

The mother and daughter thanked Alexia for her time and help and then they were back on the road to return to Dean and Bobby.

* * *

><p>Dean didn't take the news well.<p>

Neither did the nearest wall.

Ellen quickly moved forward, forcing Dean to sit while Jo took a look at his split knuckles.

"Alexia said she'd have Taryn get in touch with us," she told Dean as she leaned against the armrest on Bobby's chair. "Taryn's been with Roxy pretty much the entire time, so she'll have more details about what happened. Details that could help us find Sam."

Dean nodded and pulled his hand away from Jo's. He knew he needed to stay calm about all of this, but it was really hard to do when everyone wanted his little brother dead.

Taryn called less than an hour later with more information regarding Roxy.

"She didn't come home last Thursday night," she told Dean and the others over speakerphone, "and her phone was turned off until around 7 or 8. I got a text message saying the GPS was going to be on for ten minutes and that Roxy was bleeding out."

"Where did the cops find her?" Dean asked. "Alexia said it was a barn of some kind?"

"That's right," Taryn said. "The closest town was Payson, almost twenty miles south of Provo. They told me it was an abandoned farm on bank-owned land or something."

"Somewhere out of the way enough that no one would notice it being used," Bobby said.

"Exactly," Taryn agreed. "They had to life-flight her to the hospital here in Provo and she went straight into surgery. The… the doctors said she'd been cut up with knives, punched in the torso and jaw, and her left arm…" Taryn trailed off and a moment later the sound of soft sobbing came over the phone's little speaker.

"Taryn?" Ellen asked quietly.

"They think it was a hammer of some kind," Taryn finally said, voice only just audible over the speaker. "Whoever had her, he — " She broke off with another sob. "He broke the bones in Roxy's forearm and wrist pretty badly, did a lot of damage to the nerves and stuff. She's uh… she's gonna have to go through a lot of physical therapy, but they — the doctors don't know if she'll regain full use of it or not right now."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment.

"Dean," Taryn said, "there's something else you should know."

"What's that?" Dean asked, already certain he wasn't going to like it.

"There's two men here from the FBI," Taryn said. "Special Agent Victor Henricksen and his partner, Ready or Ridey or something."

"Of course," Dean sighed. "I suppose they wanna blame me for what's happened to Roxy?"

"Yeah," Taryn said in a sad voice. "Henricksen knows that I know you and Sam now. He's not very good at listening to anything I say, though."

"What a surprise," Dean said dryly. "I've only ever spoken to the guy over the phone and he seemed like a real dick."

Taryn snorted. "I think he's too busy thinking he knows all the facts to hear anything I say." She paused before asking the question. "Sam said that Roxy called him?"

"Friday night," Dean confirmed. "The empathy doesn't work over the phone, so we really had no way of knowing… I'm so sorry, Taryn."

"I know," Taryn said. "You're probably thinking she should've been stronger or —"

"No," Dean said quickly. "No, you guys aren't trained to handle torture. I'm sure she held out as long as she could, and she's still alive. That's all you should care about right now. I don't blame Roxy for what's happened at all, and I know Sam wouldn't, either. He lasted a month in L.A., I _know_ he'll handle this until I can find him."

"Thank you," Taryn said softly. "That really means a lot. Do… d'you want me to tell Roxy what's going on when she wakes up? The doctors say she's doing good on that coma number scale thing, they think she'll come around tomorrow afternoon, maybe evening time."

"You can tell her," Dean said. "I'm sure she'd want to know."

The conversation wrapped up pretty soon after that.

"What if Walker didn't come into Utah?" Jo asked as she worked to hack into the police database. "What if he went east into Wyoming?"

Dean sighed and shook his head. "We don't know for sure," he finally answered, "but I can't help but think he's here somewhere." It was pretty much nothing to go on, and when Jo managed to hack into the database, the only information they were able to take away from the crime scene was that the tire tracks did match an older van dating from the 80s, which definitely matched what Dean had seen in that security footage in Evanston.

Wednesday drew to a close, and Dean still didn't know where Sam was.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	15. Fifteen: The Search for Sam

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Fifteen: The Search for Sam**

**So my husband's step-grandmother passed away Christmas Eve, and I was drafted to sing at her funeral Thursday morning. We ended up singing "You Raise Me Up", one of those songs that sounds really beautiful when someone like Josh Groban sings it, but no so much when it's a group of amateurs. I spent two hours Wednesday morning trying to make it workable for 8 singers, a violinist who wasn't very good, and a pianist who was too old to be playing something this fucking hard. It sounded okay, but I can honestly say I did better when I sang at my nephew's funeral back in June.**

**Anyway, between a busy weekend visiting family and Grandma's death, life got incredibly hectic on me and I almost thought I wouldn't get this chapter done before the new year showed up. Thankfully, I finally managed to finish this chapter maybe 10 minutes ago (it's 12:09 am Saturday the 31 as I write this), and now you finally get to read it.**

**So, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I loved hearing from each of you. Also, I would like to thank SPN Mum for the encouraging messages that helped me choose which direction I wanted to go in with this chapter as well as future ones. My original plan had this entire story going for about 21 chapters before it ended. My plan has gone out the window. I have no idea how long it's going to be at this point, but I hope everyone continues to read and enjoy. Now, on with the story!**

* * *

><p><em>"I don't care what my brother can and cannot do! He is <em>still_ my brother, and he is _still_ human."_

— _Dean Winchester, "Demon's Trial"_

* * *

><p>"Do you think he really knows anything of use?"<p>

Gordon clenched his jaw and turned to look at Carlton. It was Thursday morning, Sam had been forced to stay awake for over twenty-four hours, the four Hunters had taken it in shifts to try and get him to talk, and yet he had continued to be a stubborn pain in the ass. To add to that, Gordon had noticed both Carlton and Creedy exchanging concerned looks, almost like torturing the freak was bothering them or something.

"Sam knows many things he's still not ready to divulge," Gordon answered with a mild scowl. "You just have to remember who his father was. John Winchester was a stubborn sonuvabitch who served in Vietnam. Sam and Dean were both raised as perfect soldiers by the man, so he's going to continue to resist for some time."

"And how much time do we really have before his brother finds us?" Carlton asked. "We aren't aiming to kill him now, too, are we?"

Gordon scoffed. "We'll have our answers long before then, and then we'll finally kill Sam and be one step closer to saving the world. As for Dean…" He trailed off and considered for a moment. "The man's been conditioned to love the freak, which means he'll likely try to kill you should he show up before we're through. Who's life do you value more? His, or yours?"

Carlton didn't have an answer for him.

_Exactly_, he thought to himself as he headed off to visit Sam once again. He would get his answers, one way or another.

Of course, it was hard to be patient when Sam's first reaction to seeing him again was to groan, cough and then say, "Haven't you… had enough yet? M'not con… concealing details… of an evil master plan."

Gordon couldn't stop his scowl. "The demon who gave us that drug said his leader wanted you dead. Did you rebel against her, try to lead in her place?"

Sam laughed and coughed and laughed some more like he thought the idea was preposterous or something. Gordon got angry and broke his nose.

"Nowb I soun' lychke shid," Sam garbled out after some more groaning and panting. He was also sweating and shivering. _Probably starting to get a cold,_ Gordon thought absently.

"I think you're coming down with a cold," he said. "Some demon soldier you are."

Sam glared and winced from the rapidly developing bruises around his eyes. "I'b nod a solder," he said. "Nod for Lilifth."

Gordon tilted his head to one side. "Lilith?"

Sam paused before slowly closing his eyes and lowering his head, his sweaty bangs concealing his face. He coughed again and groaned some more.

"Is that her name? Lilith?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"You _do_ know more than you've been letting on," Gordon mused, barely containing a smile. "I can't even imagine the lengths you've gone to, making sure that Dean still thinks you're a good guy when you're really not." He leaned in close. "Were you ever really human, Sammy?"

Sam lifted his head and spat in Gordon's face.

He was crying out in pain a few seconds later when Gordon pulled out one of his favorite knives and slashed him across the chest. It was mostly a surface wound, but it still bled like a bitch.

"I'll send in Creedy to patch that up later," Gordon said as he opened the cooler in the corner and measured out Sam's next dose of the demonic power-blocking drug. He pulled up Sam's sleeve, stabbed the needle in, gave a pleased hum at Sam's next hiss of pain, and then tossed the needle back into the cooler. "I'm so glad we finally made some progress today. I really hope you'll feel more like talking later."

Sam tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "Don' cound on id."

Gordon narrowed his eyes, but forced himself to leave the room. They still had time to break Sam. It was more than clear by this point that it was going to take some pretty drastic measures to get him to divulge the nasty secrets he was still keeping close. The name of one demon was nothing compared to what Gordon still wanted to know.

"Get anything?" Kubrick asked when he stepped into his trailer, parked inside of their current location.

Carlton and Creedy looked up from their breakfast.

Gordon nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I got a name."

"Whose?"

"The she-demon we've heard about."

"And?"

Gordon grinned. "Lilith."

* * *

><p>"Do you think there's four of 'em total?"<p>

Dean looked up at Bobby and shrugged. "I saw three in the video, but there had to be a fourth guy shooting the darts, given the angles and speed of the whole operation." He poured his fifth cup of coffee that morning and sank back onto his bed in the motel room. "How did things get so fucked up?"

Ellen gave him a sympathetic look from the table. "You mean the fact that the feds are involved," she said.

Dean sighed and nodded. "I can't go near Roxy or Taryn or Alexia. If they think to track Taryn's phone records she could get into major trouble…" He gulped down his coffee and set the foam cup onto the nightstand before scrubbing at his face.

Jo kept up a routine check of the police and federal databases for any updates, but there was still nothing as the day wore on into evening time. As it turned out, there were a lot of vans, stolen or otherwise that could have tires matching the ones found at that barn.

"Maybe we should ask Ruby for help," Ellen suggested when Bobby returned with dinner.

"No," Dean snapped. "I don't like her, I still don't completely trust her, and don't you think a bunch of crazy Hunters would set up Devil's Traps and salt all over their hideout when they think they've got the Anti-Christ in their midst?" He started pacing the length of the motel room. "None of this was supposed to happen," he finally burst out, "this isn't what I had in mind when —" He broke off and ran his hands through his hair.

"When you made that Deal," Jo finished quietly. "When you decided not to let Sam rest in peace."

"I swore I'd save him no matter what!" Dean shouted. "If it was the last thing I ever did!"

Jo, Bobby and Ellen exchanged quiet, sad glances and Dean wanted to scream.

Instead, his phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Taryn. Roxy's awake."

* * *

><p>Gordon Walker. Weyland Kubrick. George Creedy. Finn Carlton.<p>

Victor sighed and leaned back in the chair he'd been provided at the local police department. He stared at his computer screen and wondered just what the hell he'd stumbled into with this case. Not that things had been simple when he was only after the Winchester brothers, but the addition of these four men greatly complicated things.

He grabbed a phone and dialed a number.

"This is Special Agent Don Green speaking."

"Special Agent Victor Henricksen," Victor said. "I understand you're in charge of the manhunt for the escaped convict Gordon Walker."

"That's right."

Victor rubbed his eyes and sighed. "It seems he's become involved in my manhunt."

"Who are you after?"

"Dean Winchester and his brother Sam."

"Oh, those two," said Agent Green. "They were mentioned as being involved in Walker's arrest last year."

"That's what I understand," Victor said with a nod. He scratched his bald head. "I've got a case that's become more complicated with Walker's involvement. According to a witness I got in the hospital, he's working with three other men that have their own mile-long rap sheets, and apparently he's gone psychotic, thinkin' Sam Winchester's some kinda Anti-Christ aiming to destroy the world or something."

It took several seconds before Green said, "What the fuck."

"Exactly," Victor agreed. "Can you tell me about Walker's escape from prison?"

Green sighed. "He was cleared for transfer to another detention center in Illinois. One of the prison guards named Colby Thomas was apparently bribed to leave Walker's cuffs loose to aid his escape when the bus crashed later on. Walker took the gun off the guard in the bus and shot him before taking off in a pick-up truck spotted by one of the other prisoners in the bus. Near as I can tell," Green added, "there were three men who orchestrated the entire thing, but both vehicles used in this operation were found abandoned over in Illinois. They also wiped all their prints."

"Well, I think I know who your three men are," Victor said. He read off the names Roxanne Parker had given him.

"Weyland Kubrick is the primary suspect in the murder of Scott Carey last year," Green said. "Carey was involved in Walker's arrest, it was his recorded testimony at the police station along with two other men and some evidence found in Walker's car that put him behind bars to begin with."

Victor squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "This just gets more and more complicated, I swear."

Green chuckled. "Tell me about it," he said. "So you think my guy has got one of your guys?"

"Yeah," Victor said, "clear over in Utah."

"Utah?" Green asked, sounding surprised. "Why Utah?"

"My witness is friends with the Winchesters," Victor answered, "along with her girlfriend and her dead best friend's family. Walker kidnapped her from Utah Valley State College's campus grounds last Thursday night and allowed the cops to find her via GSP the following evening. He tortured my witness for information on the Winchesters, and she says he wants Sam dead, that he forced her to lure him and his brother here."

"Oh, wow," Green said softly. "You think Walker has your guy?"

Victor sighed again. "Unfortunately, I do. My partner's at the hospital with my witness, and all the nurses have reported that her girlfriend told her that Sam was kidnapped over in Evanston, Wyoming two days ago." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. "Dean Winchester is somewhere in this state, lookin' for his younger brother and probably aimin' to kill your guy and his cohorts."

"Holy shit." There was a pause, and then Green said, "I'm taking a red-eye flight over to Salt Lake's airport. I'll call you in the morning."

"I appreciate the help," Victor said before ending the call. He then called the police force in Evanston and requested that they find the gas station the Winchesters had been to back on Tuesday afternoon and send over any security footage.

"Agent?" Victor looked up to see Detective Reynolds holding a file.

"Reynolds," he said. "You have anything?"

"We managed to track the van," the woman told him, holding out the file. Victor took it from her and opened it. "It was stolen from transmission shop on Geneva Road in Orem late Thursday night and abandoned at a parking lot at Provo Towne Centre Mall sometime Tuesday evening. There's no security cameras there and no witnesses so far. Weekday evenings at the mall aren't usually very busy."

"But the tires match the tracks found at that barn?"

"Yes, sir," Reynolds said. "CSU's trying to pull particulates to match it to the crime scene, but results are gonna take time."

"Especially considering the fact that the van's probably been to Wyoming and back," Victor sighed.

"Sir?"

"Miss Parker finally woke up about two hours ago," Victor said. "Has CSU found any prints on the van?"

Reynolds shook her head. "So far the inside seems to have been thoroughly cleaned of any evidence."

"So we got nothing."

"Not exactly."

Victor raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Reynolds pressed her lips together and grabbed a chair to sit down in. "There was a spot of blood under the van that wasn't washed away with yesterday's rainstorm." She nodded at the file in Victor's hand. "I got it to the top of the wait list and it's got a match in the FBI's database."

Gordon flipped the pages and froze.

Sam Winchester.

"She was right," he breathed.

"Sir?"

Victor groaned, closed the file, set it aside and rubbed his face. "The Winchesters may be involved, but not as the bad guys. Not this time."

"What does that mean?"

Victor looked over at Reynolds. "A religiously-inclined psycho thinks Sam Winchester is the Anti-Christ."

Reynolds blinked. "Please say you're joking."

Victor shook his head. "My case has gotten more complicated, Detective." He gestured to his computer screen. "I need you to put out an ABP on these three men. It's time we took the entire case public and opened a tip hotline."

Victor rose and moved away, allowing Reynolds access to the computer. "I'll get right on that," she said. "You callin' it a day?"

"Not just yet," Victor said around a yawn. "Gotta check with my partner first. Provo's still doin' guard duty until Miss Parker's able to start physical therapy on that arm of hers."

Reynolds looked up with a sad expression. "I heard she might not regain full mobility."

Victor nodded. "It's a shame, her teachers at UVSC say she's got a bright future ahead of her in the theater business." He wished Detective Reynolds a good night, called Reidy to alert him to the case updates and headed for his room at the Marriot Hotel in Provo where he crashed for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>"Do you ever think your family woulda been better off if you'd never been born?"<p>

Sam didn't answer.

"I mean, anyone who knows of John Winchester also knows his wife was killed by a demon. Not so many know that she was burned on the ceiling above _your_ lil' cradle."

Sam said nothing.

"I guess that ol' Yellow-Eyes — sorry, your good buddy Azazel knew even then that you weren't normal, weren't fully human."

Sam kept his silence.

"Didn't your little girlfriend die the same way as your mom? I gotta say, it sure sounds like you're a cursed one. I bet she'd still be alive if you'd never been born, too."

Sam clenched his jaw.

"So what's it like, making your brother and friends think you're a good guy? We know you control minds, Sam. Do you think that maybe they're starting to come to their senses, realized what you really are? I'd bet that Dean's happy to be free of you and your freaky powers and evil plans. Did you feel bad when Dean shot Azazel dead?"

Sam breathed heavily through his mouth and started coughing, wincing at how bad he sounded. The cut on his chest had been sloppily bandaged and he was pretty sure it was getting infected, which wasn't helping with the shaking and shivering he was already suffering through.

"Why don't you just tell us what's coming, Sam?"

Sam lifted his head and glared at Walker. The black man sighed, annoyance bleeding through the cracks as he unsheathed his knife again and stabbed it right into Sam's thigh. Sam spent the next few minutes grunting, groaning, shaking and coughing his way through the pain. Finally, he caught his breath enough to say, "Deanb's godda… kill you bhen he finds be." God, talking with a broken nose really sucked.

Walker's frustration rose to new heights, and he punched Sam so hard that black spots danced before his eyes.

"You'll be dead before he figures out where you are."

A moment later, Sam heard the door to his prison squeal open and then shut. God, the Hunter was really getting upset over Sam's refusal to say he was evil.

Sam blinked. Wait, he'd _felt_ Walker's frustration and anger. His eyes drifted over to the cooler still sitting in the corner. They'd still been dosing him regularly, right? Not having slept properly for who knew how long was seriously messing with Sam's sense of time, but they'd kept injecting him. He was still completely powerless, wasn't he?

Another round of wet, soggy coughing broke loose, and Sam gave up on thinking about anything else until Kubrick stepped in a few minutes later.

* * *

><p>The search for Sam became both simpler and amazingly more complex Friday morning.<p>

"They've taken the case public," Jo told Dean the moment he stepped out of the shower, "sent out photos and info, even opened a tip hotline."

Dean stared at Jo and sighed. "Time to hack the database again, I guess," he said.

"Already on it," Bobby said from the table next to the window. "I've already read through the info they've got on Walker and those other three. Me n' Ellen are watching for tips we think are more likely to have merit, based on what we know about these men that the authorities don't."

"Awesome," Dean said. "Lemme know what you find. I can't go another day not knowing where Sam is."

"Of course," Ellen said, "but there's something else you should know."

Dean sighed. "What?"

"The authorities…" Jo traded looks with her mother. "They're calling it some kind of turf war between psychopaths, between you and Walker with Sam as the collateral or something."

Wow.

What. The. _Fuck_.

"Awesome," Dean groused. He spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon methodically cleaning all the weapons from the Impala's trunk. It was about six o'clock when Dean finally heard the words he'd been waiting for:

"I've think we've got a location."

"Where?" Dean asked, dropping the machete he'd been sharpening.

"A woman saw a jeep and trailer matching Kubrick's near the edge of Spanish Fork."

"Okay, where's that?"

"It's actually closer to Provo by nearly ten miles," Ellen answered. "There's a barn up for sale next to the freeway, right near an exit, and it's apparently still in fairly decent condition."

"They could've picked it," Bobby said with a thoughtful frown, "there's been a lot of rain this week, they probably wanted a place with more cover than a rickety ol' barn."

"Great," Dean said, putting his machete back in its holster and beginning to clean up his supplies. "Let's get going."

"Hang on," Ellen said, quickly rising with her hands out. "We can't take the Impala, the Feds posted a description of it with your face and name."

Dean scowled. "Are you telling me to hide my car? _No one_ puts Baby in a corner!"

Jo raised her eyebrows. "Uh, you know that's from —?"

"Swayze, Jo," Dean cut her off. "Swayze _always_ gets a pass."

Jo pressed her lips together, eyes sparkling just a little.

"We can't risk being spotted by the cops," Bobby stated, "and if we're wrong about this location —"

"No," Dean snapped, "we are not saying shit like that. We are going to find Sam. Today. Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Do you think Winchester knows how to hack into police databases?"<p>

Victor sighed and took a long gulp of coffee as thunder rumbled dimly from outside. "Given that he and his brother have imitated various levels of authority over the years, yes."

The hotline had been going off at an insane pace since the morning news broadcasts earlier that day. Victor could only hope that there was something useful amongst the panicked calls of concerned citizens.

"Okay, then someone has already looked at a tip we got maybe ten minutes ago by a woman in Spanish Fork."

Victor stepped closer to Detective Reynolds' desk and looked over her shoulder. "A barn that's been up for sale for only six months?"

"It's possible they would want better cover with the crappy weather," said Agent Don Green from a chair five feet away, brown hair still slightly disheveled from the overnight flight across the country. In fact, Victor was amazed at the man was as coherent as he was after getting so little sleep (he had never been able to sleep very well on planes himself). "I hear the last place was a shithole."

Reynolds scowled slightly at the agent's language. Jesus, _Mormons_.

"Well, yeah," Victor said, "but why pick a barn next to the freeway after choosing another barn that was in the middle of nowhere?"

Green shrugged. "Nothing that Walker's done fits a discernable pattern, Agent."

"Really?"

Green nodded. "We couldn't figure out why Walker wanted Sam Winchester and that Scott Carey kid dead. The only connection we found at all was that both their mothers died in house fires when they were babies. Apart from that, they literally had _nothing_ in common besides being in the same place when Walker came lookin' for 'em." He leaned back in his chair. "I notice you didn't tell the press that Walker's a religious psycho, thinkin' your kid's the Anti-Christ."

"Utah has a religious-heavy population," Victor sighed.

"Yeah, but members of the LDS church don't believe in an Anti-Christ," Reynolds spoke up, "and that's the big religion of the area."

"You Mormon's are weird," Green stated.

Reynolds rolled her eyes at the Fed. "We still believe in the Bible, same as any other Christian, still celebrate the same holidays, love Jesus Christ, the whole nine yards. Trust me, most members of the public would scoff at the idea of an Anti-Christ while still taking the threat of a psychopath seriously."

"Whatever," Green said. "So are we gonna check out this warehouse?"

Victor looked back at Reynolds' computer screen and considered. "Let's send someone to scope out the place, assess its likelihood of being Walker and co's hideout before we assemble an assault team."

"I'm on it," Reynolds said, turning away and reaching for her phone. Victor took another long drink of his coffee and hoped he could have this situation over and done with before the end of the day.

And yes, he also hoped that Dean would be there when he found Sam. Catching this many crazy people in one fell swoop would definitely make this the case that defined his entire career.

He barely noticed the grin Green concealed with another sip of his own coffee.

* * *

><p>"Okay," Jo said. "This is the place."<p>

Dean looked at the white barn from the end of its long driveway. It wasn't huge, but he was pretty sure the four men would be able to fit all their vehicles and that trailer inside of it with some room to spare.

A quick discussion had the group loading up on weapons before parking their cars across the road on a small, barren plot of land that already had one other car parked there. Then they made their way down the gravel driveway and up to the barn.

Nothing went right from that moment onwards.

The side doors to the barn, facing away from the freeway, were pulled open by Creedy and another guy Dean assumed was Carlton as they approached. "Come on in, Dean!" Gordon called from inside, sounding cheerful like he was greeting an old friend at a bar or something.

Dean scowled, lifted his handgun, and strode right inside. The sight that met him wasn't pretty.

Kubrick was perched up in the rafters with a .22 caliber rifle aimed right at Dean's head. Gordon, on the other hand, was standing behind a chair with a machete in hand.

Sam was tied to the chair.

"We were hoping you'd get here first," Gordon said conversationally as Dean took in his brother's appearance. Sam's face was bloody and bruised, nose clearly broken, and his clothes were torn in random places from his chest to his thighs, and stained with dried blood. Sam's left thigh looked a lot worse than than his chest or arms. Some of the worse injuries were either covered with sloppy bandages or shitty stitchwork, and it was more than clear that said injuries were either becoming infected, or already were. His hair was coated with sweat and blood, but on top of that, Sam was wheezing and looked to be quite feverish.

Injured and sick. Fuck.

"First?" Jo asked.

"We spotted a cop scopin' out the place over an hour ago," Creedy said from the doorway. "We figured the game was probably up, but we was still hopin' you'd git here first."

Gordon's cohorts all laughed a little at that.

Dean clenched his jaw as Sam started coughing hard. "Untie him," he said to Gordon, hands holding his gun steady. "Right. Now."

Gordon grinned, and then, quick as a flash, had the machete in his hand pressed against Sam's throat, his other hand gripping Sam hard by the hair to pull his head back. "I don't think so," he said.

Sam's left eye was mostly swollen shut, but his right eye made brief contact with Dean. He was both exhausted and scared.

Dean hated _anyone_ who scared his brother. "I'm gonna kill you," he said in the deadliest tone of voice he had.

Gordon chuckled. "Again, I don't think so." He glanced around the barn. "I mean, sure we've got even numbers and all, but you've got two women and I've got something that should be put down like a dog, yet still means something to you."

It took everything in Dean to not react violently to the harsh words. "Sam's more human than you could ever hope to be, Walker," he said. "Killing innocent people? Roxy says that _you're_ the one who blew up Becky's apartment back in June."

Something flickered in Gordon's eyes.

"Oh, you thought you killed her, didn't you?" Dean said with a hard grin. "Well, apparently your aim fucking sucks, cuz they saved her, Walker. Roxy's in the hospital right now with an arm broken so badly that she's gonna have to go through physical therapy to try and regain full use of it." He shook his head slightly. "You're so fucked in the head it isn't even funny."

Gordon's eyes narrowed. "Everything I've done," he said, "I did to save the _world_, Dean."

"You're not saving the world," Dean snapped. "You're making it worse."

"Dean," Bobby said quietly, but Dean ignored him.

"You're gonna let my brother go right the fuck now," he said, "and I'll let your buddies live. You don't, you all die. That's the deal."

"No deal," Gordon replied at once. "Sam's the only one dying tonight. I gotta hand it to your daddy, Dean, he trained the freak to sustain torture pretty damn well, war training and all. I'd find it admirable if Sammy wasn't evil."

"He's _not_ evil," Dean all but shouted.

"Dean," Bobby said again.

"Sam is nothing more or less than _my_ little brother," Dean told Gordon, tightening his grip on his gun ever so slightly. "I don't care that he can move things with his mind and read emotions or make me do all the laundry cause he's too lazy to do it himself, because he's _Sam_ and he's the best fucking part of my life." He looked down at his brother. "He's not some demonic leader or the fucking Anti-Christ or whatever the hell it is that you're thinking. He's fever seizures from the age of one to three, he's scabettio's and Lucky Charms, giving me the fucking prizes when he eats the last of the box and clinging to anything normal and calling Hunters he only meets two or three times 'uncle', wanting to play soccer and do mathlete shit and acting and Prom, going to fucking _Stanford_ when Dad said 'no' and being his own person!"

"Dean," Bobby said loudly.

"What?" Dean snarled, not looking away from Sam.

"We've got more company," the older Hunter said in a worried voice.

"_This is the police! Everyone lower your weapons and get down on your knees now!"_

Five seconds later, the barn was filled with two-dozen cops in SWAT gear, led by none other than Victor Fucking Henricksen.

Dean glanced around the room before meeting Sam's one-eyed gaze ten feet away from the gun in his hands. The entire situation had just gotten a hundred times worse. How were they gonna get out of this one?


	16. Sixteen: Bad Company

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Sixteen: Bad Company**

**As bad as things got in the last chapter, it's about to get a whole lot worse. There will be a couple of long-awaited deaths in this chapter, a lot of dialogue, and just a lot of many, many things, some which might feel familiar from 3.12 "Jus in Bello". And then there'll be another cliffhanger. Because I'm apparently evil. Or something.**

**Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, I really hope you enjoy this next one. Oh, and I hope you're all having a better start to 2012 than I've had (you try having 2 allergic reactions spaced 24 hours apart and see how you cope). Anyway, please read and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"No one <em>is taking you out, Sam. You're not evil, and you never<em> will be._"_

— _Dean Winchester, "Supernatural vs Evil"_

* * *

><p>"You boys are surrounded <em>and<em> outnumbered," Henricksen said smugly, looking just as Sam had described him back in March when he'd spent a couple days in prison. "This psycho war you boys are waging ends here and now."

Dean kept his gaze firmly on his brother and the knife against his neck as thunder rumbled in the distance. "You put down the knife, Gordon, and I'll put down my gun."

Gordon shook his head. "Not happening."

"Then I'll just have to shoot you."

"Kubrick will blow your brains out before that happens, Dean."

"I'm pretty sure I can kill him before he has the chance," Ellen said calmly from behind Dean.

"And I've half a mind to shoot you all where you stand," Henricksen cut in angrily. "This situation is completely out of your hands —"

Sam burst into another round of coughing and Dean winced. Fuck, that shit sounded ugly.

" — and Winchester there needs medical attention," Henricksen finished, now sounding a little put-out.

"He's not living past today," Gordon said in a light tone of voice like someone who was discussing the weather or something equally stupid. "I'm just doing my duty."

"Duty?" Dean scoffed. "What the hell do you know about duty, anymore? How many innocent people did you torture on your quest to find Sam? You _murdered_ Rebecca Warren. You almost _killed_ Roxy. If I go back through the list of people we've met and helped, how many would I find hurt or even dead?" He glared at Gordon and shook his head. "I am not letting you walk out of this barn alive. You've crossed a line you can't un-cross."

"I am doing whatever the hell I have to —"

"There are rules we follow," Dean cut the Hunter off. "We don't torture or kill civilians, Gordon, can't you see you've gone off the deep end?"

"Civilians?" Henricksen echoed, but Dean continued to pay him no mind.

Gordon snorted. "The freak brainwashed you real good, didn't he?"

Dean was done.

"Okay," he said, "you know what? I _tried_ doin' that whole talkin' reason thing, but you clearly don't know sense from bat-shit insane, so I'll just have to demonstrate. Ellen!"

Things moved very fast in the next few seconds. Near as Dean could figure when he thought about it later, it had gone something like this:

Ellen responded to Dean's shout instantly, pulling the trigger on her own rifle and shooting Kubrick in the head before he could react. He fell from the rafters, dead before he hit the ground. She dropped her gun and lifted her hands into the air as she dropped to her knees. A man Dean later identified as Special Agent Calvin Reidy ran forward and pulled her arms behind her back.

Jo had been aiming her handgun at Creedy, and she also responded to Dean's shout, shooting the Hunter in the leg before allowing herself to be knocked down by a female detective. Two members of the SWAT team quickly moved in on Creedy, disarming him and pulling his arms behind his back as he cried out in pain from the gunshot wound.

Bobby's gun was pointed at Carlton, but it seemed he had more sense than the others because he dropped his weapon and surrendered to the police. Bobby quickly followed suit.

That just left Dean. The moment he heard Ellen's rifle go off, he took the shot he had been waiting to take since Lafayette, Indiana over a year ago. Gordon had no chance to react.

Dean dropped his gun and ran forward as Gordon's lifeless body dropped to the ground, getting to Sam just as Henricksen moved closer with his gun still pointed at him. "Stop moving!" he shouted.

Dean ignored him. "Sam?" His little brother's head had dropped forward after Gordon had released it, but he raised it on his own and met Dean's eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled. "'Bout tibe."

Dean chuckled a little as he reached up to Sam's face and gently felt his nose. "How long has it been broken?" he asked when Sam hissed in pain.

"Dean, I'm warning you —!"

"Would you just _shut up_ already?" Dean snapped, glaring up at the FBI agent. "My brother's been injured by a bunch of lunatics."

"Dun' know," Sam garbled out. There was the sound of more distant thunder.

"What d'you mean?" Dean asked, attention right back on his brother.

"We uh…" Carlton spoke up hesitantly. Dean glared over his shoulder at the bald man, who squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "He wasn't allowed to sleep, but Gordon broke it yesterday morning."

"You haven't slept at all?"

Sam shrugged as much as his bindings would allow. "It blurred toge'ter."

Dean clenched his jaw. "If I hadn't already killed the bastard…"

"Dean," said Henricksen, "you need to step away from Sam so I can have him looked at."

Dean turned away from Sam again. "Do you _really_ think I'm about to trust anyone else with Sam's well-being?"

Sam coughed again, and it sounded even worse than the last round.

"Your brother's obviously sick," Henricksen said. "He's gonna need a hospital, but you and your friends —"

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Dean cut in brusquely. "It's been three days plus change and I've been goin' outta my mind tryin' to find my brother."

Henricksen was starting to look angry again when Sam stiffened and raised his head, looking off to his right. "Sam?" Dean said. "What's —?"

"He's a de-bon," Sam said, staring at another FBI agent Dean had never seen before. He frowned, trying to figure out what his brother was saying. And then it clicked.

"Demon?" he asked. Sam nodded.

"I guess that drug's breaking down and wearing off, then," said the agent, stepping forward as his eyes swirled black. "Brady said it wasn't meant for prolonged exposure, said it counter-acts itself or some bullshit like that. Who understands what medical students are talking about, anyway?" He shrugged lightly.

"Who's Brady?" Dean wanted to ask, but then the demon lowered the hand with the gun and waved the other. Everyone was flung off their feet and away from Sam, Dean grunting as he hit the ground.

"I was actually possessing Vicky's boss," said the demon, "but when Special Agent Don Green called late last night with the news that everyone on our hit list was havin' a party here in Utah, I just _had_ to see it for myself." He glanced at Henricksen. "Deputy Director Steven Groves is dead, by the way. He was a bit too old to handle being my meatsuit, and it's such a shame." He smirked. "His wife was really frisky in the sack for someone in her forties."

Henricksen stared at Agent Green from the ground as he unsuccessfully tried to sit up. "I don't understand," he said.

Green laughed. "Me, demon, spawn of Hell. You, dead as a doornail in about 3 seconds." He grinned, all teeth with his black eyes wide and crazy. "We clear?"

And then Bobby started chanting an exorcism.

Dean slowly forced himself to sit up as Green bared his teeth and growled, head twisting almost unnaturally as he reacted to the Latin words. He chanced a look at Henricksen and felt a flash of amusement at the gobsmacked look on his face.

_Yeah, we're not actually that crazy now, are we?_

Then the demon bellowed wordlessly, flinging his arms out and Dean was thrown on his back once again with another grunt.

Bobby's voice cut off as he, too, was knocked over once more.

Dean raised his head enough to watch Green move right up into Sam's face with the speed he'd normally acquaint with a wendigo. Dean watched as the demon leaned down and hissed in Sam's ear, Sam's one good eye going wide and his breath catching. Just as Dean opened his mouth to tell the demon to leave his brother alone, Green's head flung back and black smoke shot from his mouth, zooming out of the barn with a scream so loud it hurt Dean's ears.

Finally, the FBI agent collapsed to the ground, alive but unconscious. Dean was back upright moments later, quickly returning to Sam and dropping to his knees in front of him again. "What did he say, Sam?" he asked urgently.

Sam didn't look at him.

"Sammy," Dean hissed, reaching out to tug on Sam's hair down at the back where his neck met his head. Sam looked at him. "What did the demon say to you?"

Sam took a long, deep breath like he was trying to stay calm. "He said…" He trailed off and swallowed before coughing again. "He said the pardy is just gedding starded."

_The party is just getting started._

"We need to get outta here," Dean whispered, but Sam shook his head.

"No tibe."

_No time._

Dean closed his eyes and gripped the back of Sam's neck hard. "Where's that fucking medical team you want to look at my brother?" he asked loudly. "Is everyone inside the barn?"

"What's going on?" Henricksen finally asked. "What the hell just happened?"

Dean looked over at the agent as he and two EMT's crouched around Green. "He was possessed by a demon," he answered resignedly, "and you watched it escape. It's going to bring back more."

Henricksen met Dean's eyes. "More what?"

"More demons," Dean said. "If there was enough time, I'd say we all need to get away from here right now, but there isn't." He slowly rose and turned to look at Carlton. "Do you have enough salt to fortify this place? What about spray paint?"

"We've got it all," Carlton answered quickly. "Bought what we needed once we scoped out the place, just in case."

Dean nodded and turned back to Henricksen. "I'm not a psycho," he said to the man. "I have never killed a living, breathing, everyday _normal_ human who didn't try to kill me or Sam first. Right now, my main priority is to protect Sam from the evil that's gonna come straight here. Can you let me do my fucking job for once in your life?"

There was a long moment of silence as everyone stared at Henricksen. Finally, he nodded. "I have questions," he said, slowly rising and putting his gun into its holster.

"Get your medics to fix up Sam and I'll answer them," Dean replied. "Also, if you could let go of Jo, Ellen and Bobby, I'd really appreciate having my friends help me out with making this place as safe as we can."

Henricksen nodded again. "What do we do?"

* * *

><p>"OW!"<p>

Sam jerked away from the medic who had just reset his nose. "Sorry," the stout woman said unapologetically. "Now, I can have my partner give you some antibiotic shots to help fight off the infection, but we're really not prepared to handle the bronchitis you seem to be developing."

Like he needed permission or something, Sam starting coughing again. He reached up with his hand to cover his mouth, but the woman slapped his hand away. "Keep away from that nose of yours," she said sharply. "Can you breathe through it at all?"

"Yeah," Sam answered between wheezes, "but it's really stuffy." He silently relished being able to talk normally once again, even if he was wheezing like crazy.

"Blood can do that," the woman sighed. She produced some tissues and held one up to Sam's nose. "Blow."

Sam pulled away. "I can blow my own nose," he said, feeling slightly perturbed.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Every mother does this for her children," she said. "Now, c'mon."

Sam stared at the woman. "My mom died when I was a baby," he said shortly. "And Dean wasn't big on dealing with boogers."

Dean snorted from a few feet away as he spray-painted a Devil's Trap on the floor. "Dude, you just said boogers."

Sam would've glared at him if his face was working correctly.

"Oh," the medic said. She paused thoughtfully, then held out the tissue again. "Gotta learn sometime."

Sam ignored the cheeky grin Dean was shooting him and warily obliged the medic. "Better," she said before looking over her shoulder at her partner, a younger man with a military-style haircut. "Got those shots ready?"

"Yeah," he said, voice sounding much kinder than Sam had been expecting with the haircut. "Get the alcohol swabs?"

The woman nodded and carefully pulled Sam's tattered shirt away from his arms, leaving him shivering even more in the storm-chilled air. "We'll try to be quick," she told Sam. "I'm told your brother's already got some of your things for you to change into once we're done here."

"Awesome," Sam sighed. "Any chance of a shower while I'm at it?" Both medics smiled slightly.

"So what's this again?" Henricksen asked, staring at the Devil's Trap Dean had just finished painting on the worn, dirt-covered concrete pad that spanned the barn's doorway.

"Devil's Trap," Dean answered wearily. "Demon's can't cross over them without getting stuck. And the salt acts as another barrier," he added as the FBI agent opened his mouth again.

Henricksen ran a hand over his bald head. "This still sounds so crazy."

Sam flinched as the first needle was abruptly stuck into his skin. "Hey," Dean said loudly, "not so hard, all right? He's already been stuck over a dozen times by those fuckers."

"Sorry," said the male EMT.

"Do you think you could tone down your language?" asked the female detective that had disarmed Jo earlier. She had identified herself as Carrin Reynolds and seemed to be a pretty decent woman.

"Mormons," Dean grumbled without any heat. "Look, lady, I can try, but I'm not promising anything. Things are gonna get ugly really soon. Now, I need to make another trip out to the cars for other weapons and supplies. Who's comin' with me?"

Two police officers named Darren and Jesse agreed. Sam stared at Darren, feeling like he had seen the guy somewhere before. Or maybe someone who looked like him?

"Hey," Dean called over his shoulder, "Bobby, can you dump those two bodies outside?"

"What?" said Detective Reynolds. "Dean, they're dead."

"Yeah," Dean said, standing the barn's doorway. "And?"

Reynolds frowned. "Don't you have any respect for that?" she asked, gesturing to Walker and Kubrick's corpses.

Sam watched Dean's face close off. "I have no respect for murderers," he said shortly. "Bobby, get those bodies out of here." He stalked away from the barn, the two cops following him silently. A few of the other members of the SWAT team started murmuring among themselves, and Reynolds looked incredibly bothered.

"I'll help," Reidy finally said, stepping forward. He followed Bobby over to where the two Hunters had been laid out, sheets draped over their bodies so no one had to look at them.

Sam watched as Kubrick was carried out first, feeling no sense of peace or relief that the two men were finally dead. Mostly, he just felt empty and drained.

"All done," the male EMT finally said. "Would you like to change now?"

"The trailer's water tank is full," Ellen spoke up from another Devil's trap she was making near the other end of the barn. "You can clean up in there."

"Thanks," Sam said, slowly rising on shaky legs.

"Why did these men think you were some kind of Anti-Christ?" Henricksen suddenly asked.

Sam sighed and looked over to where Dean had left his duffle bag by the edge of the trailer. He raised a hand and concentrated, praying it would work. Slowly, the bag rose and wobbled through the air until Sam was able to grab the straps, head only aching a little from the effort.

The barn was silent. Sam met Victor Henricksen's eyes calmly. "It's because I _am_ a freak," he said, "just not the kind that wants to rule the world with an evil fist." He started coughing again, pressing his hand hard into his chest.

"C'mon, Sam," Jo said, stepping forward and grabbing the duffle bag from Sam's grasp. "Let's get you cleaned up. Everyone else can deal with things for now, okay?"

Sam nodded and allowed the blonde girl to direct him away from the piercing gazes of everyone in the room, Carlton and Creedy included from their corner of the barn where Henricksen had them cuffed and guarded by five cops. At that moment, he finally realized that his mental shields were still up, blocking out everyone's emotions.

Sam was grateful for it. He didn't want to know what they all thought of him now.

* * *

><p>"Tell me about yourself, Darren," Dean said as he reached his beloved Impala and opened the trunk, making silent note of lightning as it flashed from the southern edge of the valley. It looked like it was moving east, so it probably wouldn't rain at the barn like it had for the last three days. Good.<p>

He caught the look that Darren exchanged with Jesse before shrugging. "Not much to tell," he said. "I grew up in the area, started working out in the oilfield with my older brothers after I graduated high school…" He trailed off as Dean started piling shotguns into his arms. "Are these legal?" he asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the guy. "Do you _really_ want me to answer that?" he asked pointedly.

"Probably not," Jesse said after a moment. Darren paused and then nodded his agreement.

"So what prompted the change from well-paid roughneck to police officer?" Dean asked, grabbing rounds and handing them over to Jesse.

"My brother encouraged me to make the change before he uh... before he died," Darren answered, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath before continuing his story. "I'd met this girl I really liked, but she wasn't coping so well with how often I was gone and well… I just really loved her, y'know? We got married about two years ago, after I finished my training and she's managed really well since then."

Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded. "I guess I can see that," he said after a moment's thought. "Is it really any better? I mean, both jobs are dangerous in their own ways."

"True," Darren said, "but the accidents on an oilrig can be a lot worse than ones in law enforcement. I dunno, Natalie just never adjusted to it like my brother's wife did. I love Natalie, I really do, but Danielle? She was… well, she was just something special."

Dean froze and stared at the guy. "What's your last name?" he asked slowly.

Darren blinked. "Palmer," he said. "Why?"

"Your name's Darren Palmer," Dean said. The guy nodded, looking befuddled. "Would I be guessing right if I said your brother's name was Jared?"

Darren stared at Dean. "How do you know that?"

Dean sighed and turned away. "Me n' Sam met Danielle about seven months after Jared's death. She was locked up tighter than Fort Knox and honestly? I thought she was kind of a bitch at first."

Darren actually laughed a little at that. "She was one of those people you tended to trust without ever asking for much in return," he said, "but after Jared died…" He sighed and readjusted the weapons in his arms. "I saw her at his funeral, and then I didn't see her again until Christmas. She refused to talk to any of us, moved in with her parents, it was like she was a completely different person until she showed up Christmas Day, wanting to apologize and crying with my mom and hugging everyone, and then she… you know." _Died._

Dean smiled sadly. "Sam got her to open up a little after Halloween, got her to actually grieve."

Darren met Dean's eyes. "How did he do that?" he asked. "How did he reach her when no one else could?"

Dean grabbed the last of his supplies and slammed the Impala's trunk shut. "I don't know an easy way to say any of this."

"All right," Darren said.

Dean tried to think of where to start, and then decided just to go for it. "Your brother was killed by a demon," he said, turning to walk back to the barn. "It sabotaged the rig and set the whole thing on fire. Dani was a psychic, could read people's emotions, but she wasn't able to warn Jared in time. Mine and Sam's mom was killed by a demon when we were kids, and then Sam's girlfriend was killed by another demon back in '05. Sam's also psychic, everything from reading emotions to moving shit with his mind, but he couldn't control the empathy. Dani taught him control, and he helped her to start grieving. They were best buddies until the demon that killed our mom kidnapped them both and made them play a 'survival of the fittest' game with other psychic's like them. I saved Sam and killed the demon, but Dani didn't make it." He took a deep breath. "Any questions?"

Darren had stopped walking and stared at Dean with a shocked look on his face. "Psychic?" he finally croaked.

"Remember those headaches she started getting before she and Jared moved to Wyoming?" Dean asked. Darren nodded silently. "That's when her ability started manifesting. Jared helped her learn how to control it, supported her until the day he died." He shook his head. "I thought you looked kinda familiar. You look a lot like the pictures of Jared that Dani showed us, except you're —"

"Shorter," Darren said with a wry grin. "That's what everyone says."

"Sam's just as tall as your brother probably was," Dean said, "so I get that." He turned back to the barn and resumed walking. "Your sister-in-law was an amazing woman," he added quietly. "She and Sam were both still grieving, but I…" He trailed off and steeled himself to say his next words, something he and Sam had never actually talked about, but something he'd guessed at, all the same. "I think they really loved each other."

"Your brother must be a really good guy, if she cared that much about him," Darren replied in an equally quiet voice.

Dean recalled the look on Sam's face after he'd shot Danielle; the determination, the shock, the heartbreak… "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, he is."

They stepped through the barn doors as Jo emerged from the trailer looking panicked.

"Dean," she said the moment she saw him. "They're coming."

"Sam have any idea how many?" Dean asked, directing Darren and Jesse over to Kubrick's jeep, which had the back hatch opened to reveal more weaponry.

"Too many," Jo said, "and they're coming fast."

Dean looked outside and spotted a dark cloud near the mountain range in the east that didn't fit the storm clouds already in the sky. "Shit," he muttered. "Okay, let's get all the doors shut and the last of the salt poured, this ain't gonna be pretty."

"Wait," Sam shouted, stumbling out of the trailer now and looking cleaner than he'd been when Dean had left. "Hold on, there's someone else coming."

Dean frowned. "Who?"

Sam glanced around the barn before speaking. "Ruby."

Dean stared at Sam and then looked out of the barn doors to see a blonde girl sprinting down the gravel driveway. "You sure that's her?"

Sam nodded and started another round of vicious hacking. "Get him back in that trailer, Jo," Dean snapped, striding forward to make a small break in the salt line a cop had just poured.

"What's going on?" Henricksen asked as the trailer door shut again. "Who's Ruby?"

Dean sighed and scrubbed at his face. "The only friendly demon we've ever met."

"What?" Reidy said loudly. "But I thought demons are evil."

"Ruby's weird," Dean said with a scowl. "Hurry up, bitch!"

"Shut up, shortbus!" Ruby yelled back as she approached the barn and entered, getting caught in the Devil's Trap Dean had made maybe 20 minutes earlier and stumbling to a halt at its opposite edge.

"You shut up," Dean grumbled, "shortbus…"

Ellen resealed the salt line and directed some cops to shut the barn doors. "You gonna let me out?" Ruby asked with a glare. "I'm here to help you get outta this new pile of shit you just heaped on yourself."

Dean glared at the blonde. "There's a giant cloud of demon headed straight at us," he said. "I'm gonna wait 'til they finish the first wave and back off. Get comfy." He turned and walked towards the trailer.

"Holy crap!" said one of the cops, staring out at the sky through the barn's one window with its thick-planed sheet of dirty glass. "That's a cloud of demon?"

Dean strode over to the guy and looked out the old window, as well. "Yeah," he said. "That's a lot of demons."

It approached the barn, a writhing, dark mass of chaotic evil and then —

_BOOM._

Dean winced as the demon souls slammed against the barn. The protections made it impossible for them to get inside, but he couldn't help but wonder if the structure was actually stable enough to sustain its way through even _this_ attack.

"They won't get in," said Ruby with a sigh. "Give 'em a few and they'll back off, maybe go find some poor locals to possess."

"They're gonna possess people?" asked Reynolds with a dismayed look on her face.

"I'm possessing a dead Jane Doe," Ruby said with a shrug. "Most demons are incapable of manifesting themselves into looking like people. We need bodies to hang out in, and all of yours tend to do really nicely."

"I don't know if I like her very much," Jesse whispered to Dean as he walked by Kubrick's jeep.

"Same here," Dean muttered back before saying in a louder voice, "That's enough Ruby, no need to keep scaring the locals."

"Let me out and I'll stop, then," Ruby replied, hands on her hips.

"When those demons back off," Dean replied. "That's the way it's gonna be." He turned away and headed for the trailer once again. "Someone tell me when they all leave," he said and stepped into the trailer to check on Sam.

* * *

><p>Sam limped forward, broke the line on the Devil's Trap and stepped back, putting all his weight on his right leg. Ruby shot him a smile and stepped free.<p>

The cloud of demons had backed off after a couple minutes, vanished for another five, and then returned in the bodies of over one-hundred people, Walker and Kubrick's dead bodies included. "I really don't like this," said Reynolds, peeping through a crack in the barn's doors.

Ellen got busy repairing the Devil's Trap as Ruby headed over to the jeep with its supplies. "Got a way outta this?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Ruby glanced at the weapons and nodded. "Yeah, but it's…" Sam opened his empathy a crack and sensed that the demon was actually a little hesitant about whatever she was going to say. "It's a spell," she finally said. "A powerful one."

"What's it do?" asked Jo.

"Vaporizes every demon in the area," Ruby said, "including me."

"Great," Dean said, handing Sam his third granola bar of the hour. "Eat, Sam."

"Dean —"

"What do you need to do this spell?" Dean cut Sam off with the patented 'I'm the big brother and you're listening to me' look. Sam sighed and ripped open the bar.

"Someone devout," Ruby answered.

"And what are you going to do with this devout person?" Ellen asked as she stepped back into the small group.

Ruby shifted uncomfortably. "Sacrifice them," she finally answered.

"We're not doin' that," Bobby said after a moment's silence.

"I'm sorry," Ruby burst out exasperatedly, "but it's the only thing we _can_ do! There's too many demons out there for both the Colt and my knife to handle, let alone a bunch of salt rounds and some holy water!" She ran a hand through her long hair. "Look," she said, "the spell requires the sacrifice of a _devout virgin_, but if any of those people out there are still alive, then this spell will leave them that way when it kills the demons. Running out there with the gun and knife is going to kill _a lot_ of innocent people. I thought you were _against_ that."

"Wait wait wait," Dean said loudly. "A _virgin_? There aren't any virgins in here, anyway!"

There was a long pause, and then Reynolds raised her hand from maybe five feet away. "I'm still engaged," she said.

Dean blinked. "Seriously?"

Sam smiled slightly. "Didn't Dani ever mention that Mormons don't have sex until after marriage?"

"Okay, sure," Dean said. "Are you the only virgin in here?"

Three other people raised their hands, too.

"Still dating," said a tall guy.

"Engaged," said another woman.

"Getting married tomorrow," said the male EMT that had given Sam his antibiotic shots.

"What the hell are you doing here, then?" asked Dean disbelievingly. "Who works right up until the day before they get married?"

"I was only supposed to be on-call," said the medic with a shrug. "Sometimes things work out differently than you expect, you know?"

"Right," Dean said.

There was a moment of silence.

"We're not doing this," Jo finally said. "We can't sacrifice someone for a spell that we only have your word will work."

"This spell will _kill _me," Ruby snapped, blue eyes flashing angrily. "Isn't that proof enough of how fucking serious I am?"

"Are you _sure_ there's nothing else we can do?" Henricksen asked. "Everyone here is skilled with firearms and close-range combat."

"Look," Ruby said, "the problem is that we can't afford for _any_ of these demons to get away from here."

"What happens if any escape?" asked Reidy.

"They'll go straight to _Lilith_," Ruby answered shortly. "The current leader rising in the west. There is _no way_ we're prepared to take her on right now."

"Why not?" Sam asked, anger flaring up at the demon's name.

"Because you're been awake for a good seventy-something hours," Dean answered at once. "Because the rest of us have _barely slept_ trying to find you. Because we've got over 20 civilians just in this _barn_ to worry about, let alone anyone out there who isn't dead from being possessed. We're not ready, Sam. This isn't the time _or_ the place to take on a demon we still know nothing about."

"Actually," Bobby said, "I did that research you asked for and I was gonna tell ya, but then Sam was taken and, well…"

Sam took a calming breath. "What'd you find out?"

"According to Jewish legend, Lilith was supposed to be Adam's wife in the Garden of Eden," Bobby answered, dragging off his ballcap and scratching his head. "Lore says she refused and then the Devil twisted her soul until she became the first demon."

"Except there's no Devil," Dean scoffed. "That's like saying that _angels_ really exist."

"If Hell's real," said Ellen, "then what's to say that Heaven isn't?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Ever look at the world around you? That's the _only_ answer you need to _that_ question."

"Okay," Jo cut in, "but if Lilith's the first demon, wouldn't that make her unbelievably powerful or something?"

"Yes," Ruby said. "I've run across demons over the last couple of weeks who speak of her with complete reverence like she's a god or something." She turned to look at Sam. "We're in no position to take on something that powerful right now, and you know it."

Sam turned away and ran his hands through his hair, ignoring the pull of the stitches on his chest. "You're still shaky," Dean said. "Go find something else to eat."

"I don't want anything," Sam said, glaring at Dean as best he could.

There was another moment of silence.

"If we're not going to do this spell," Henricksen finally said, "then what are we going to do?"

Dean scowled. "I don't know."

There was more silence.

"I can only think of one other thing," Ruby finally said, and she felt even _more_ hesitant about this other idea. "I don't think you're gonna like it at all, though."

"What is it?" Dean asked, sounding resigned.

Sam turned back to Ruby and watched as she swallowed and bit her lower lip. "Demon's blood," she finally said.

"No," Dean said at once.

"It'd be more than he's ingested before," Ruby went on as though Dean hadn't spoken. "No time to build up his strength, just drain a body and let him loose."

"No," Dean said again, more forcefully.

"I think it'd only banish them all back to Hell," Ruby continued, voice raising higher as though she was panicked by the idea. And really, she was. "It'd be very fast, no time to react, and it'd probably take me back to Hell, too, and then it'd take _years_ to get out of there and —"

"_We're not pumping Sam full of demon's blood!"_ Dean broke in, all but bellowing the words. "Just _shut up_ already!"

Stunned silence followed his outburst.

Sam swallowed hard. "Dean…"

"No," Dean snapped. "We're breaking out all the weapons and taking our chances that way. Do we have a way to record an exorcism and play it out of one of the car's speakers?"

"I think the trailer has what we need," Ellen said quietly.

"There's _too many_, Dean," Ruby said, gesturing outside with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. "If even a _single_ demon escapes, Lilith will probably come here and slaughter _every last innocent human_ she finds! I don't like this at all, I really don't." She looked at Sam. "We have to either do the spell or…" She trailed off, looking torn.

"What would happen to me?" Sam finally forced himself to ask, voice hoarse from more than the coughing and sickness.

"I don't know," Ruby whispered. "You'd live, I'm at least certain of that, but…" She looked away. "Derrick told me about your last detox when I interrogated him back in June," she said. "I think this one would be a lot worse."

Sam couldn't hide a shudder as he remembered his hallucinations and the shaking and cramping and sweating…

"Sam," Bobby said, "please don't say you're even _thinking_ about this."

Sam cleared his throat, staring at the ground. "It's either kill an innocent person," he said, "risk the lives of everyone here, or just mine." He forced himself to meet Bobby's eyes. "What do you think my answer is?"

* * *

><p><em>TBC... please don't hate me...<em>


	17. Seventeen: Weapon of War

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Seventeen: Weapon of War**

**So I've been distracted by the awesomeness that is the Sneezy Sam comment-fic meme over on LJ. Too distracted to post this even though I finished it Sunday night lol. Anyway, there's some build-up going on here, but we're finally going to reach the climax of the current predicament. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>It's a fucking tough job, and you know it."<em>

"_Yeah, it_ is _tough, Dean, that's the whole point. We're_ supposed _to struggle with this!"_

— _Dean and Sam Winchester, "Demon Virus"_

* * *

><p>"<em>We're not pumping Sam full of demon's blood!<em> Just _shut up_ already!"

Victor stared at Dean and his friends, feeling like he had really and truly walked right into the middle of a conversation he had no back-story for. He also wondered, for the first time, how he never saw the big brother devoted to his younger brother's wellbeing before now. How he only ever saw what he wanted to see.

What had he been _thinking_ before?

"Dean…" Sam said softly, but his brother cut him off sharply.

"No. We're breaking out all the weapons and taking our chances that way. Do we have a way to record an exorcism and play it out of one of the car's speakers?"

"I think the trailer has what we need," the older woman in the group, Ellen said.

"There's _too many_, Dean," Ruby the demon said loudly. "If even a _single_ demon escapes, Lilith will probably come here and slaughter _every last innocent human_ she finds! I don't like this at all, I really don't." She looked at Sam. "We have to either do the spell or…"

"What would happen to me?" Sam asked after a few seconds. He really didn't sound good.

"I don't know," Ruby said, and she sounded like the situation was actually bothering her. "You'd live, I'm at least certain of that, but… Derrick told me about your last detox when I interrogated him back in June. I think this one would be a lot worse."

Sam actually shuddered. Victor felt even more confused. Detox?

"Sam," Bobby Singer spoke up, "please don't say you're even _thinking_ about this."

"It's either kill an innocent person," Sam replied in a resigned voice, "risk the lives of everyone here, or just mine." After a moment, Sam said, "What do you think my answer is?"

Victor watched as Dean swore loudly and stalked away to the other end of the barn, pausing by the stock of weapons long enough to send them all tumbling to the ground in an expression of anger. Several cops in their SWAT uniforms jumped nervously as the various firearms clattered against each other and the ground, even though they all were currently unloaded. A moment later, the door to the trailer slammed shut.

"We'll need a demon from out there," Ruby said quietly.

Sam coughed hard and nodded. "It's gotta be someone who's already dead," he managed between more wheezing. "We're not draining someone still alive."

"What's going on?" Victor finally asked.

"Would that make a difference?" Jo asked, instead. "I mean, if the body is still alive or dead?"

"I don't think so," Ruby said. "I mean, I'm in this body alone, and I make the heart beat and the blood pump and I eat normally, so…" The blonde demon shrugged. "I just don't know how we're gonna get another demon in here without letting them _all_ in."

"So we'd have to start out with Dean's plan, then," Ellen sighed, "let them in, fight until Sam's ready." She turned to the tall, young man. "Sam, are you _sure_ you're up for this?"

Sam coughed again. "Not much choice," he finally managed.

"Guys," Victor said more loudly. "What's going on? What's all this about… demon blood?"

Ruby looked up at Sam and pushed her hands through her hair. "When a demon possesses a person," she finally answered, "we… _change_ something in the blood that makes it our own while we're still in that body. After we leave, the body naturally purges itself of these changes and returns to its original state. I think it only takes about a week or something — anyway, the blood running through my body's veins has something in it that makes it different from yours. Feeding our blood to babies at the age of six months also leaves a change, sort of like unlocking hidden code within the DNA." She looked up at Sam again. "That's what happened to Sam the night his mother died."

Victor blinked. "What?"

"Sam was fed a demon's blood as a baby," Ruby said, sounding weary. "That's why he can do things normal humans can't." She blinked and turned back to Sam. "Are you _sure_ that drug wore off?"

Sam nodded. "Everything's working right, far as I can tell."

"Wait," Victor said, "there's more than just levitating duffle bags and identifying demons?"

"Touch your nose," Sam said hoarsely. Victor obeyed without questioning and then stared wide-eyed at Sam, who just shrugged.

"Okay," Victor finally said, "but why would you talk about drinking more blood?"

Sam looked away.

"Another demon told me it gives him extra abilities and strength," Ruby took over once again. "If he drinks enough, he should be able to send every demon here back to the Pit. The thing is…" She glanced at Sam yet again. "He's never drained an entire body before. At least, that's what I was told."

"Never," Sam confirmed softly.

"It's something that normally has to be built up in the system with lots of practice and patience to build up his strength," Ruby went on, "but we're out of options unless a virgin is _really_ willing to give up their life —"

"I think we've already established that we're not going to do that," Reynolds cut in quickly. "Right?"

Sam nodded.

"So you think Sam could… _exorcise_ every demon here," Victor said, trying to make sure he understood, "by draining a possessed body of its blood, but there could be some side-effects?"

"I think it's more like _major_ side-effects," said Bobby grimly. "Sam went through days of withdrawal the last time —"

"What happened last time?" asked Reynolds.

Sam started coughing again and Jo helped him limp away so he could sit somewhere a little more private. Not that it was easy with over thirty people in one barn…

"A powerful demon took him from Dean," Ellen answered, stepping closer to Bobby and placing her hand on his shoulder, "and force-fed him its blood until he got addicted. It took a month to find and save him, and he was a mess for a while after that."

Victor watched as one of the cops quietly approached Jo and Sam, holding out his hand for Sam to shake and speaking too softly for Victor to hear. A sad, understanding look passed over Sam's pale face, but he reached out and clasped the guy's hand.

"Dean's been watching out for Sam his whole life," Bobby said quietly, reaching up to place his hand on Ellen's. "We're basically agreeing to use him as a weapon of war."

"How do you protect the person you have to use to save you and thirty-something people from being killed by over a hundred demons?" Victor guessed, and Bobby nodded.

"Exactly."

The rules of war: use any and all advantages to win, to save yourself, and to save your people. It was the worst thing Victor had ever encountered in all his years with the FBI. Quite suddenly, Dean ceased to be a mystery in any way, and became nothing more or less than a big brother.

* * *

><p>"I'm Darren Palmer," the guy said, holding his hand out to Sam. "My older brother was Jared… I'm told you knew Danielle before she died?"<p>

Sam felt a new wave of sadness settle over him. Danielle had told him about her husband's side of the family, but he had never met any of them. "I thought you looked familiar," Sam said softly, reaching out to shake Darren's hand. "You look a lot like Jared from the pictures Dani showed me and Dean."

Darren smiled sadly and settled himself on the ground next to him and Jo. There was a moment of silence and Sam allowed himself to remember the time Danielle had talked about Jared's family.

"_Jared had five brothers," Danielle says with a small smile. She's been teaching Sam how to control his empathy for two days by this point, but they have to take frequent breaks so they don't overload him with another headache. "One older, and the rest younger. And actually, his older brother had a different dad, but the guy didn't stick around, so when Leanne met Kevin and they got married, he adopted Andrew and gave him his last name."_

"_So," Sam says, "Andrew, then Jared, then…?"_

"_Darren," Danielle answers. "Darren's about four years younger than Jared, and when he was seven, their parents got divorced."_

"_Ouch," Dean comments from the other side of the room._

"_Yeah," Danielle says sadly. "Kevin married some other woman about a year later, but none of us ever liked her. Anyway, Jared was fifteen when Leanne met Ron Newman and seventeen when they got married. They had Connor and Carter, twins, and then Tyrel."_

"_Sounds like a big family," Dean says._

"_Yeah, that's pretty common around here," Danielle replies. "I knew this girl in high school, Carrie, she had four older siblings and another five younger ones, all from the same parents."_

_Dean grimaces. "Good luck keeping track of _that_ many children," he says._

_Sam watches Danielle laugh. "Jared and I only wanted two kids," she says, "maybe three if we were crazy enough. But we…"_

Never got the chance.

_There's a moment of silence. "Sorry," Danielle says, ducking her head and quickly swiping her eyes free of the tears that Sam knows want to fall. "Anyway," she continues with a shaky smile, "I loved Jared's family, even if they were a little overwhelming at times. They're all good people, you know?"_

Sam swallowed down a cough. "Dani said she loved your family."

"Yeah," Darren said with a smile. "We loved her, too. She wasn't super-talkative like Andrew's first wife, Vanessa, but she was always really welcoming and accepting."

Sam nodded. "I guess Dean explained some things to you."

"Yeah," Darren sighed. "This was not the day I imagined when I showed up for work. What do I tell my mom? I mean, who believes in this kind of stuff without seeing it themselves?"

"Growing up with it," Jo said from Sam's other side. "Otherwise, proof comes in mighty handy."

Darren chuckled before sobering. "I got the feeling when I saw Dani last Christmas that there was something she still wasn't telling us, but I never woulda guessed it was demons and empathy and monsters and shit."

"She just wanted to protect you," Sam said with a small shrug.

"I never even went to her funeral," Darren said, and Sam sensed that he truly regretted it. "Was… was it good?"

Sam blinked hard and stared at the ground.

"_Don't tell my family what I did," _Danielle's voice whispered in his mind.

"Yeah," Sam said, voice rough from more than just coughing. "Yeah, it was good."

* * *

><p>The trailer door opened. Dean knew it wasn't Sam, so he stayed where he was, seated at the small table with Kubrick's laptop sitting closed in front of him.<p>

"They told me." It was Henricksen.

Dean didn't say anything.

"It's… it's quite the sacrifice he's willing to make."

Dean took a deep breath and let it out. "That's Sam for ya," he finally spoke.

"Has he always been like that?"

Dean snorted. "Not really," he said. "Sam… me and our dad wanted to protect him, keep him safe growing up, so we never told him the truth about anything. Didn't stop him from asking, and eventually he stole our dad's journal and learned the truth. After that…" Dean leaned back in his seat, watching as the agent slid into the seat across from him. "He was scared that our dad wouldn't come back home every time he left, that social services would catch on and separate us forever, that we'd never find out what killed our mom before the drive to Hunt everything else killed us all first…"

"Sounds rough," Henricksen said.

"Honestly?" Dean ran a hand over his mouth. "It was. Sam never knew our mom, and our dad would sooner get drunk than answer questions about her, and I, well, I wasn't much better. It was really confusing for him until he figured it out, but once he knew, I think the truth just scared him more." Dean sighed. "Going to Stanford wasn't about not being with me or our dad or even all that much about being normal."

"He wanted to be safe," Henricksen said quietly, and Dean nodded.

"I've watched out for him my whole life," he said, staring at the closed laptop. "It was my one job, even after he walked away from me to go to school. And since he's been back, he's been kidnapped by crazy people and demons, this girl we both trusted stabbed him in the back…" He dropped his head into his hands. "And now I'm supposed to let him do the one thing that's damaged him more than anything else."

There was a long moment of silence.

"You feel like you're using him as a weapon," Henricksen stated.

"Wouldn't be the first time I felt that way," Dean admitted. "Sam's special, even more so with all his abilities, and we just took advantage of it… let the visions direct us to people in trouble, make people tell us the truth about the things they've seen they can't explain, know when someone's lying, know if there's demons nearby…" He pushed both hands over his scalp and back to his neck. "How do I let him do this after everything else?"

"I didn't think it was your choice to _let_ him do anything," Henricksen said after a moment.

Dean smiled sadly. "Sam's always been stubborn, going his own way, doing his own thing. You used to think that he was only on the road with me because I forced him, didn't you?"

Henricksen smiled a little. "Yeah, until I met Sam back in March. After that," he continued with a long stretch of his arms and back, "I wasn't so sure what the dynamics between the two of you were. It was clear that you were a team, but it just made the things you were wanted for more confusing to think about."

"So you tried not to think?"

Henricksen nodded. "It was easier to act." He let out a small chuckle. "You know, I actually started to believe that Danielle Palmer girl you two knew must've been just as crazy as you and Sam to be your friend."

Dean dropped his gaze. He'd thought too much about Danielle already that evening.

"What happened to Danielle Palmer?" Henricksen asked after a few seconds.

"She was shot," Dean said. He swallowed hard and added, "By Sam."

Henricksen didn't say anything.

"She…" Dean wasn't sure why he was saying any of this, especially to a guy who had been searching for him for several months to arrest him and put him behind bars for life. Well, until April. "Dani stabbed Sam in the back, literally. Severed his spinal cord and killed him."

Henricksen remained silent, but the question was in the air, anyway.

"I made a Deal with a demon for Sam's life," Dean admitted. "I'm goin' to Hell when the clock strikes midnight on April 27 next year, but Sam gets to live. Anyway, we tracked Danielle down to an old cowboy cemetery in Wyoming, but she opened a doorway to Hell and let out a bunch of demons while saying it was destiny or some shit, like she _wanted_ Sam to shoot her."

"And he did."

"He got to his gun first, or else it woulda been me."

Seconds passed in silence.

"We don't know why she betrayed us like that," Dean finally said, "and Sam's greatest regret is that we'll never know the answer, never have that… that closure."

"Does her family know the truth?"

Dean shook his head. "Her last words to Sam before she died were not to tell her family what she'd done. We couldn't tell them, couldn't do that to them."

Henricksen didn't reply to that, and Dean was glad for it.

Silence fell once again inside the trailer.

* * *

><p>"Okay," Ruby said, "so we're gonna have to let them in to begin with."<p>

Ellen glanced over at Sam, who was sitting on the open tailgate of Creedy's old pick-up, hands twisted together in his lap. He was anxious. Ellen didn't blame him at all.

"They want to kill us," Ruby continued, "so they're not gonna run away unless they figure out that something's up. We'll have to act fast."

"You mean that _you'll_ have to act fast," Dean said shortly. "We're counting on you to grab a demon and get it over to me and Sam as soon as you can."

"Yes," Ruby said. "The rest of you will have to fight."

"Are we gonna have some kind of signal to let us know when Sam's ready?" asked Jo.

"Car horn," Dean replied. "Fighting this many demons is gonna be loud, especially with the guns. A car horn's the only thing that has a chance of bein' heard by everyone."

"How are we deciding who gets a shotgun and who doesn't?" asked Reynolds. "Everyone but the medics have weapons training."

"Yeah, but most of the gun training is with pistols," Henricksen stated. "I would say that everyone who already knows how to handle a shotgun gets one first."

"Okay," Ellen said, "so raise of hands, who knows how to use a shotgun?"

About ten hands went up, including Ellen, Bobby, Jo, Henricksen and Reidy. "All right," she said, "I think we have that many shotguns?"

"Twelve," Bobby said.

"I'll need one," Dean said. "The Colt's a last resort."

"That's the one that kills demons, right?" asked Henricksen. Dean nodded.

The got to work handing out the shotguns, all the salt rounds they had prepared, and then all the jugs of holy water they were able to make along with a few iron chains. After that, they put the medics and remaining cops in a stable blocked by a thick line of salt and were told to stay put until it was all over. Sam and Dean retreated to a corner behind the trailer, where they planned to leave one Devil's Trap intact, Ruby pulled out her knife, and the people set to fight gathered near the barn doors.

Ellen wished Jo good luck and sent her off to her position with a quick hug. Then she turned to Bobby. "Look," she said, "I feel like we've been sorta dancing around this for a while now —"

Bobby chuckled, reached forward, took Ellen by the back of her neck and pulled her into a firm kiss. "I know," he said quietly. "We'll make it." Then he was off to take his position in the fighting group. Ellen took a deep breath and restrained from placing her fingers on her lips.

They were going to live through this. They _had_ to.

* * *

><p>The Devil's Traps were broken, the barn doors pulled open and the salt line was swept away.<p>

The hoard descended like a pack of ravenous dogs.

Less than a minute later, Ruby dragged a demon possessing a man neither Sam or Dean recognized into the unbroken Trap. "He's still alive!" Sam shouted angrily.

"There's no fucking time!" Ruby shouted back, slitting the demon's throat and bending him forward to drain into a bowl. Dean switched it out for another one and handed it to Sam. "Start drinking!"

Sam stared at the blood. He remembered the first few drops he'd ever tasted, the rush, the power, the strength, the feeling of invincibility…

He was terrified of going back there.

He was terrified of having to return from it once he began.

Sam met Dean's eyes and read the anguish and fear trapped inside. None of this was supposed to happen. Sam was never supposed to drink demon blood again.

_Fuck._

Sam tipped the bowl to his lips and drank.

* * *

><p>Dean watched Sam as he began to drink, arms trembling even as they somehow held the bowl of blood steady. The world around them was filled with screams, shouts, loud 'booms' as shotguns went off, hissing as holy water hit possessed skin, but his entire world was nothing more than his little brother giving up everything to save a barn filled with people he didn't even know.<p>

A stray demon spotted their small group and ran toward them. Dean fired off his shotgun, and the demon slammed hard enough into the nearest car that it was stunned. Dean ran forward and hit the guy's head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out.

He returned to the intact Devil's Trap as Sam slammed down the first bowl and grabbed the second one from Ruby without being prompted. She made a deep slice somewhere else on the body she held to drain out even more blood, and Dean was surprised to see that she was pale and a little bit shaky herself.

Dean had ever seen a demon be scared of anything.

Another body landed nearby. It was Darren, but he was still alive. "Fuck," he groaned, pushing himself back to his feet, and then he was running forward to join the fray once again.

Sam was panting harshly as he continued to drink, hands tightly gripping the bowls as he and Ruby kept switching them out. He also seemed to be feeling better; the wheezing actually diminished, and he hadn't coughed once since he began to drink. Even the bruising around his left eye was going down enough that Sam could open it most of the way.

Jesus fucking Christ, how was Dean supposed to feel about that?

"Last bowl!" Ruby shouted, and Sam nodded tightly, tipping it to his mouth, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed five for six more times. The bowl clattered to the ground, sound swallowed up in the din of fighting that surrounded them.

Dean watched Sam as he panted and wiped his mouth. "Fuck," he breathed, "fuck, Dean, I can feel it, I can _feel_ it, all of it, shit —"

Sam was shaking again, but not from fatigue. His hands clenched and unclenched convulsively. Finally, he rose, eyes gleaming in a way Dean had never been able to see in person, but remembered from a DVD handed to him by a demon over a year ago. Ruby rose as well, placing the hand not clutching her knife on Sam's arm. He looked down at her.

"It's okay," she said, and Dean could barely hear her. "Let go."

Sam nodded, grabbed her hand (she seemed so fucking _small_ compared to him), closed his eyes and raised the other hand.

It was shaking even worse than the rest of him.

Dean dove for the nearest car, almost tripped over the still-unconscious demon, reached through a now-broken window, and slammed his fist down on the car horn, making it blare long and hard.

Then it began.

Demons were shaking, screaming, choking, spasming, the humans around them slowly lowering their weapons, the air filling with black smoke as it came out of mouths, eyes —

Sam screamed, and the demons crackled into the ground, burning, writhing until there was nothing left but a large group of unconscious bodies on the floor, the human fighters littered among them, shaking silently.

Dean turned away just in time to see Ruby catch Sam's slumping form.

"You're still here," he said dumbly, even as he ran forward to help her support his little brother's body.

"He protected me," Ruby said, and even her voice was shaking now. "He grabbed my hand and I was _safe_. He wasn't supposed to have that much _control_, Dean."

Sam's nose was bleeding freely, and another trickle of blood was making its way from the corner of his mouth. Dean pressed his fingers to Sam's wrist.

He had no pulse.

"No," he said, "no no no, Sam, don't do this —!"

Dean lowered Sam to the ground and pressed his hand against his chest. It wasn't moving. His heart wasn't beating.

"NO!"

"Get those medics over here!" Ruby was screaming as Dean ripped open Sam's overshirt and started CPR. No, he wasn't losing Sam again, he'd already sold his soul for Sam's life, this wasn't supposed to happen, _Sam, c'mon, just gasp in one breath and live and wake up_ —

Dean was pushed out of the way, all four medics swarming over Sam at once with their portable equipment and shouting at each other in that way that medical people always seemed to do in those stupid TV dramas, only now it was real.

"Sam…" He barely noticed Ruby breaking the Devil's Trap she was still inside of with the knife, barely noticed when she pulled him away until he couldn't see Sam anymore. "No, let me go, I have to see him, Sammy, please! Sam!"

"Dean!" Ruby shouted, shaking him. "Let them do their job, they'll save him, they will, but you've gotta calm down!"

Dean didn't _want_ to calm down, he wanted his brother, _Sam Sammy Sam wake up just wake up _—

"Got a pulse!"

Dean felt his knees buckle, and he dropped to the ground. "It's okay, son," he heard Bobby whisper in his ear a few seconds later. "It's okay, he's still alive."

Sam was alive.

Their weapon had survived the battle.

It took everything in Dean to not throw up at the thought.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	18. Eighteen: The Gift

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Eighteen: The Gift  
><strong>

**So it's been a while. I wish I could say that real life exploded on me or something, but that wouldn't be completely true. I've had busy days with my husband and slow weeks without him, but it was mostly that my muse skipped out on me. It's hard to post a chapter when you can't even finish the chapter in question, you know?**

**Anyway, this chapter is a good mix of angst and fluff. I decided to skip most of Sam's recovery in favor of moving the story along, but you'll still get plenty of sick-but-healing!Sam and big-brother!Dean between the 'happening now' and 'flashback' parts. Also, I borrowed an idea from an author on LJ that I really love named shangrilada about our dearest Jessica Moore. There's so much we don't know about her, like her religion for example. I made her Jewish because shangrilada's fics make me that happy. But that's enough chatter from me. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>You don't just turn on family."<em>

— _Sam Winchester, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>South Dakota winters were cold and windy with too much snow and ice for Dean's liking. He slowly made his way down the road to Bobby's house in the Impala, taking care to make sure he didn't slide or get stuck anywhere. He didn't want to crash or get stuck and thusly ruin the actual Christmas cheer filling Bobby's house for the first time in years.<p>

Christmas with family. How weird was that?

"You're gonna take that turn too fast," Ruby said dryly from the passenger seat.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I think I got more driving experience than you," he said before adding, "I still can't believe Sam's letting you anywhere _near_ him."

"Sam has excellent control of himself," Ruby defended his brother at once. "And it's not like I've got plans to go cutting myself open at the worst possible moment or whatever."

"Says you," Dean muttered darkly.

Ruby scowled. "You _still_ don't trust me," she said, sounding both angry and upset at the truth.

"You nearly killed Sam," Dean retorted sharply. "It's been three months and he's still not —"

"I didn't _know_ that was going to happen, Dean!" Ruby snapped, blue eyes flashing in the dim lighting. "I'm not all-knowing like God or whoever the fuck thinks they're in charge. Seriously, how many fucking times are we gonna do this before you chill out?"

Dean didn't have an answer for her.

* * *

><p>"<em>He needs a hospital," the female medic is saying, but Dean isn't listening, he's watching Sam's eyes flutter like they're trying to open, but he just looks so fucking tired, panting and wheezing again like an asthmatic who's out of control.<em>

"_You can't take him," Dean says, pushing past the medics in his way. "You can't."_

"_Dean," Henricksen says, "he's in bad shape."_

"_Yeah," Dean says as he finally reaches Sam, "bronchitis and stitches and bruises, but there's also fucking _demon's blood_ in his system, do you _really_ think a bunch of doctors are going to be able to understand or really _deal_ with that?"_

"_Dean —"_

"_It's worse than any drug!" Dean shouts, hands on Sam's chest, feeling him breathe, feeling him cough and wheeze and groan. "He's going to spend fucking _days_ shaking and moaning and hallucinating and cramping the fuck out, you can't watch him and keep him safe from _any_ of that!"_

* * *

><p>Dean eased into Bobby's junkyard and up to the house. "Get the beer," he said to Ruby as he turned off the Impala's engine.<p>

He climbed out, turning up his collar against the wind as he opened the back door and pulled out two bags of groceries. Ruby grabbed the beer from the other side of the back seat and quietly followed Dean up to the house and through the front door.

"Hey!" Dean called out as he and Ruby headed for the kitchen. "I'm back with all the goods!"

"Good," Ellen said from the oven as she opened it and pulled out an apple pie. It smelled delicious. "Beer in the fridge, rest on the counter."

Ruby moved to the fridge. "How're the roads out there?" asked Ellen, setting the pie on the stove before shutting the oven door and righting herself.

"Shitty as usual," Dean said, depositing the groceries on the counter. "Store was ten minutes from closing when I finally got there."

"Anyone follow you?"

"No," Ruby said, reaching into her jacket and pulling out what looked like a hex bag. "It's spelled to cloak my location from other demons."

Ellen nodded approvingly. "Sam's still upstairs," she told Dean. "He got in the shower after you left."

Just like Dean had told him to. He nodded, patted Ellen on the arm and headed upstairs for the room he and Sam had been sharing for about three months now.

* * *

><p>"<em>We can at least take him to the hospital to take care of the things we <em>do_ know how to treat," the female medic implores Dean as he helps Sam to slowly sit up. "This is too much for someone without access to our medicines and technology."_

"_What makes you think I wouldn't just steal what I need?" Dean asks, cursing inwardly when Sam slumps against him, panting even harder and moaning in pain._

"_Dean," Henricksen says. "He needs more help than you can give him."_

_Dean doesn't want to listen. Dean wants to get out of here and away from everyone and everything, just him and Sam in his baby, roaring down the empty road with Led Zepplin blasting on the speakers, arguing over what to eat, or if Oprah's a genius/idiot, or anything else equally stupid. Anything but this._

_Anywhere but here.  
><em>

"_Hey," Ruby says softly, "let them treat him, just for a few hours. I'll bring him to you after that, I promise, and then you can take him home."_

_Home._

_Dean wants so badly to have a home._

"_Okay," he replies at last._

* * *

><p>"Hey," Dean said, opening the bedroom door and stepping inside. "How you feelin'?"<p>

"Shower helped," Sam answered quietly.

Sam was still a haggard mess of skin and bones and limp hair with shaking hands and bad dreams and intermittent cravings accompanied by muscle cramps, but he was alive and lucid and it was more than Dean could have hoped for.

Sometimes even Dean needed miracles.

"Awesome," Dean said with genuine sincerity. "How are those socks coming along?"

Sam scowled at him from his bed. He had done a really good job of dressing himself lately, but smaller things like socks, shoes, watches and buttons were still giving him some trouble. So was shaving, but it looked like he'd finally gotten that down this time. "I'm fine, Dean," Sam answered.

"Usually are, Sammy," Dean said, shedding his jacket and dropping onto his own bed. "But what don't you prove it, make me feel all special."

Sam gave him a bitchface, but slowly and carefully pulled on each of his socks. His overshirt was still unbuttoned, but Dean didn't think they really needed to bother with that this time. At least he'd been able to do up his own jeans this time.

"How's Ruby?" Sam asked, sitting upright again.

"Same as ever," Dean said, unable to keep his scowl off his face. "Can't go two minutes without arguing, you know how it is."

Sam smiled. "Yeah."

Dean stared at Sam for a moment and then asked the question he'd already asked five times. "Sam… Are you sure you're up to having her here?"

Sam looked ready to say that 'I'm sure' he'd been saying every time before, but then he paused, sighed and said, "I don't know, but I have to try sometime, don't I?"

Dean still didn't like it, but he nodded. "You'll get there," he said as encouragingly as possible. "You have time."

"But you don't," Sam said, voice cracking. "Four months, Dean."

Four months until Dean's Deal came due.

"Yeah," Dean said. "I know."

* * *

><p>"<em>No one can ever know you were here," Henricksen says to Dean and the group at large as the ambulance finally drives off with the four medics, Sam, Creedy and even Special Agent Don Green, who is lucid enough to act as a guard over the injured men. Carlton is handcuffed and locked inside a police car outside the barn. "We took down Kubrick and Walker ourselves when they refused to stand down and tried to attack."<em>

"_What about that other man?" asks Reidy, pointing to the corpse Ruby cut up and drained of its blood._

"_Another victim of Walker's insanity," Henricksen replies in a heavy voice. "He thought the man was a demon and believed that feeding Sam his blood would reveal his true colors as the Anti-Christ."_

_Dean scowls. He doesn't like this, at all, but the story, however unfortunate and close to the truth, works._

"_Creedy and Carlton have agreed to plead guilty and follow along with this story," Henricksen continues. "We're going to work out a deal with them, put them in prison for up to twenty years with a chance of parole after ten or something, I don't know." He scrubs hard at his face._

"_What about all these people?" Reynolds asks. "The ones who survived being possessed?"_

"_They're all still alive," Ruby says. "Just tell them they were drugged and send them home, leave it out of the report."_

_Dean takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Probably the best option," he forces himself to agree._

"_It's going to be difficult," says Reidy, "we don't know from how far away they were snatched."_

"_We'll make it work," Henricksen says to Dean. "You four need to leave, we'll clean up here."_

_Dean nods. "Am I still a wanted man?"_

_Henricksen sighs and nods. "Try to stay out of the public eye?"_

"_Yeah," Dean says with a forced smile. "I think I can do that."_

* * *

><p>Dean followed Sam down the stairs, feeling sad that the kid still had to take it slow, but glad that he wasn't pushing himself.<p>

"There you are," Missouri Mosely called from the study. "I was startin' to think you chose sleep over bein' with friends tonight."

"Almost did," Sam said, easing down on the couch as Missouri put the final touches on the Christmas tree she'd actually made Dean and Bobby go out and chop down, something that had been an adventure of its own. Sam rubbed his temples. "It's a little harder today."

"We added another soul," Missouri consoled at once, "and a dark one at that." She glared mistrustfully into the kitchen where Ruby and Jo were playing poker.

An unexpected side-effect of having drained a body of its blood was that Sam's mental shields and abilities were messed up once again. Dean had lasted maybe two days with Sam wincing anytime someone started to express any big emotions like anger or frustration, and then he'd begged Bobby to find someone, _anyone_ who could help Sam sort himself out again.

_Danielle could have if Sam hadn't shot her,_ his mind had whispered, and it had taken everything he had not to react to the thought.

_If Sam hadn't shot her, then it would've been you,_ were the words that had followed.

Bobby had made a couple calls, and the next day, Missouri had stepped off a plane from Kansas and told Dean to go find something to take his frustrations out on before he came near his brother again.

Some of Bobby's oldest junkers had been beaten to shreds by a crowbar over the next two hours, and then he'd been hard-pressed to leave Sam's side.

Missouri's smile was warm with only a small trace of sympathy as she reached out to help Sam adjust his mental shields. "It's difficult given the demon-sensory, yes?"

Sam nodded tightly. "Just take it easy," Missouri said as Dean snagged a water bottle from the fridge, and she nodded approvingly at him when he handed it over to Sam. "You're doin' so good, child."

Dean settled down at the desk with a glass of whiskey and did his best to relax. Sam had made great progress over the last few months. He'd get the hang of this, too, Dean was certain of it.

* * *

><p><em>Dean moves forward the instant Ruby appears with Sam's tall frame slung over her narrow shoulders. "He's already started getting muscle cramps," Ruby tells him as he slides under Sam's right arm and starts moving towards the Impala. "They gave him some medicine for the bronchitis, which, by the way, was starting to turn into pneumonia, and I grabbed extra meds and saline and IVs and shit before I got him outta there."<em>

_Dean nods tersely as he and Ruby carefully lay a groaning Sam out in the backseat. "I think he's still got couple hours before the first hallucination hits," he tells Ruby, taking in the large backpack she's wearing, presumably stuffed with the things she'd mentioned. "And… I don't know that he'll react well if you stay close by."_

_Ruby nods as she takes off the backpack and sticks it in the front seat. "I get it," she says. "It's probably for the best if I stay away for now."_

_Dean nods, as well. "I'll sit in the back with him," Ellen volunteers. "We should really try to make it back to Sioux Falls in one trip if we can manage it."_

_Dean agrees, taking in the rising sun. It's maybe seven thirty, which means they'll probably reach Bobby's around midnight, and it's going to be hard because they were up all night in that stupid barn, but they'll make it work somehow._

"_I'm gonna head back out," Ruby says, "see if there's any damage control that needs to be done."_

"_Sounds good," Dean says. "Be careful, okay?"_

_Ruby smiles, and it's the most genuine one Dean's ever seen from her. "You, too."_

* * *

><p>"We're just having soup tonight," Ellen said when she called everyone into the kitchen. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but they'd already become accustomed to managing the space they had, so adding Ruby to the group didn't affect things all that much. Sam was tenser than he'd been in a while, but Dean knew it was to be expected, so he didn't comment on it.<p>

Sam, Dean and Missouri seated themselves at the table while the others lounged against the walls and counters, Ellen and Bobby shoulder-to-shoulder and giving each other small smiles between mouthfuls of soup.

Dean couldn't help but be glad the two had finally found each other. There wasn't enough happiness in any of their lives, lately.

"We aren't getting up crazy-early to open presents, are we?" asked Jo.

"No way," Bobby said. "I'm gettin' a full nine hours tonight for sure."

Sam smiled and focused on his soup. Dean silently rejoiced in the fact that Sam was willing to celebrate Christmas at all this year. Last year they hadn't mentioned it outside of asking Danielle a few weeks later how her Christmas with her in-laws had gone, and the year before that was just after Jess had died, so it hadn't been brought up then, either. But this year, Dean had worried that Sam wouldn't want Christmas, seeing as how it was Dean's last one before Hell. However, it seemed his little brother had finally started to want to cling to every last good memory he and Dean could make before it ended forever.

Fuck, this was too depressing, Dean wanted to think about something else.

* * *

><p><em>Sam hallucinates John, Jess, Mary and even Danielle as they drive to South Dakota. The trip is long and grueling, Dean and Ellen switching off every four hours because Sam is so massive and so hard to keep still. Dean frets over the possibility of the telekinesis flinging him around within the Impala's confines or even forcing the car off the road, but thankfully that never happens. Sam cries and moans and begs for it to be over, begs for more blood, begs for a bullet to the brain, anything to make this end.<em>

_Dean can't stop himself from crying with Sam when he begs Jessica to forgive him for getting her killed, has to keep from screaming when Sam begs for honesty from Danielle. It's all so fucking unfair, why did Dean have to let his little brother be a weapon of war?_

_Why can't Dean think about anything happy anymore?_

* * *

><p>"You know, Jess was Jewish," Sam said as he and Dean got ready for bed.<p>

"Jewish?" Dean echoed, blinking in surprise. Sam really didn't talk much about Jessica. Well, no, he'd shared plenty of stories with Danielle when she was helping him learn how to control his empathy the first time, telling her about their first meeting in Stanford's cafeteria (_"So my friend Brady walked up with this beautiful blonde girl and said, 'Jessica Moore, meet Sam Winchester for real. Now stop asking me questions about him in economics, okay?'" and Danielle starts laughing so hard_), about asking her to move in with him at Huntington Beach in front of all their friends (_"She knocked me over and started kissing me in front of everyone, but I was too happy to care."_), about this time they'd almost had sex in a park and had to run from the police (_"We just couldn't stop laughing afterwards, all that adrenaline, you know? But the sex was amazing!"_), and even about that last Halloween together (_"God, that slutty nurse costume…"_). But Dean never known that Jessica had been Jewish, and he'd been to her funeral, although, granted, most of his attention had been on his brother's silent tears.

"Yeah," Sam said, smiling sadly. "We did Hanukkah together, the year before she died. She played that stupid dreidel game with me and I got sick eating too much of that shitty chocolate gelt stuff, and she taught me the songs and blessings, and I even got to light some of the candles."

There was a moment of silence.

"I would've converted," Sam spoke softly. "If she'd wanted. Anything she wanted, I would've done in a heartbeat."

Dean wanted to ask _would you have called if you converted and married her?_ But he already knew the answer to that.

"I wanted to call," Sam said. "After that fight we had?"

Sam had been at Stanford for two years before Dean had caught wind of a possible haunting at the university's museum, but by the time he'd gotten there, Sam had already taken care of it and gotten a broken arm for his troubles. Dean had tried to make Sam see reason _("No one gets out of Hunting for good, Sam, why can't you see that?"_), but Sam had already started dating Jess and told Dean to leave (_"This was a one-time thing, Dean, I was protecting my school, that's it! I'm out for good and you can't change that."_). They hadn't spoken again until Dean showed up two years later on Halloween night, asking Sam to help him find their father, and even then, they'd skirted around the fight they'd had the last time they'd seen each other.

"You know," Dean finally said, "I wanted you to have that life, I really did, I just… I didn't believe it was possible."

And it turned out it wasn't. Sam nodded quietly, staring down at his shaky hands. "I really wanted it, too," he said.

* * *

><p><em>Two days after they reach Bobby's home, Sam's bronchitis turns into pneumonia and Jo volunteers to break into the local hospital to steal the medicine they need. Sam is delirious from the fever and he's struggling to breathe in enough air to keep the blood flowing to his extremities, so Dean, feeling he has no other choice, summons Ruby and asks her to get them oxygen tanks and tubing and masks, all the things Jo can't steal on her own. Sam's moans and tears get worse whenever she's around, so she keeps her visits as short as possible before leaving again completely.<em>

_It takes the better part of a week to fight off the pneumonia, and when Sam's fever breaks, he finally begins to regain lucidity. Not too long after that is when they realize that Sam's psychic abilities have been fucked up again, and this time there's no Danielle to help them put Humpty-Dumpty back together again._

_It isn't until Bobby gets Missouri that things begin to improve for Sam in any way._

* * *

><p>Ellen started cooking breakfast around 8 the next morning. The smell of coffee, bacon and sausage guided Dean away from the warmth of his bed and down to the kitchen. Sam and Ruby were already seated at the table, talking softly. Sam didn't seem as bothered by her presence as he had while detoxing or even the night before. Good.<p>

"Mornin', hun," Ellen said brightly as Dean took the remaining chair at the table. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Chris —" Dean broke off the yawn and Sam grinned just a little. "Shut up," Dean grumbled good-naturedly. "Coffee?"

Ellen handed him a cup without missing a beat.

"Ugh, thank you." Dean downed half the cup in one gulp and let out a pleased sigh.

Everyone was gathered in the study about an hour later for presents. It wasn't a grand affair or anything, and Ruby didn't even participate, just perched herself on a chair in the corner and watched the simple festivities, but everyone got a present or two and it was relaxing and good and everything the group needed.

Everything Sam and Dean needed.

* * *

><p>"You know," Dean said, "you two oughta get married."<p>

Sam grinned around his bottle of beer as both Ellen and Bobby spluttered excessively. It was New Years Eve at Bobby's house, and it was also the first time that Dean was finally allowing Sam to drink anything alcoholic. He planned to take full advantage.

"Seriously," Dean continued, "you think we haven't noticed how happy you two have been together the last few months?"

Jo nodded from a corner.

"We bicker constantly," Bobby finally said.

"All the good married couples do," Jo said. "Mom, we aren't blind, this would be awesome."

Ellen looked a little hesitant.

"C'mon," Dean said, "all the happy memories, right?"

All the happy memories before he went to Hell if Sam couldn't find and kill Lilith. Sam gripped his beer a little tighter.

"Hey," Ruby said softly from her spot next to him in the corner, "we'll get her. I'm trying to find a spell powerful enough to locate her, but I haven't had any luck yet."

Sam nodded and took another swig of his beer. When Dean got distracted talking with Jo about something or other, Sam decided to go for the good stuff.

He just wanted to be happy.

He didn't think he knew how, anymore.

* * *

><p><em>The first time he gets to talk with Roxy on the phone, the conversation is a little stilted and awkward. Roxy's been through too much, and it's clearly affected her. Sam feels a great deal of remorse about it.<em>

"_I thought I had a dream about Danielle when I was in that coma," she tells Sam sadly. "It was… it was so weird, but it felt like it was really happening, you know?"_

"_Yeah," Sam says._

"_But I keep thinking it was just a dream," Roxy continued. "It's not like she went anywhere good after… after that."_

_After she killed Sam and Ava and Lily and Jake and Andy. After unleashing an army of demons from Hell._

"_It's not like she was going to stick around after dying, right?" Roxy asks._

"_No," Sam says, "she wouldn't."_

"_So it was just a dream, then. It wasn't really her."_

_Sam just doesn't have a real answer for Roxy and he hates that._

"_My therapy's going well," Roxy tells him later on. "My left hand's probably gonna be clumsy as fuck, but the doctors think I'll be able to do most everything I did before."_

"_That's good," Sam says. "Roxy —"_

"_Don't," Roxy cuts him off. "Dani was straight with me from the start, I knew what I was getting into when I learned the truth and I don't regret that. I just…" She sighs. "I have to keep Taryn _and_ Alexia safe, especially Lex. I've been making her talk, made her yell once or twice, but she's working through her issues and she's starting to sleep better."_

_Sam smiles. "I'm glad you could help her, after all."_

"_Me, too," Roxy says._

* * *

><p>Bobby mostly kept whiskey around as his choice of a heavy drink, but Ruby snuck in some vodka the day before, so Sam mixed up a screwdriver or five until he was feeling pretty good. He made sure not to talk a lot because he knew Dean would figure it out in an instant and probably be pissed at him. Sam tended to be really good at saying exactly what was on his mind once he got a good amount of alcohol in his system and he wasn't sure what would come spilling out if he didn't watch himself.<p>

Dean didn't seem to notice until it was nearly midnight.

"You've been really quiet tonight," he said, dropping next to Sam on the couch.

"M'fine," Sam said, staring at his shoes. Why was he so big?

"You sure?" Dean asked. "Maybe Missouri should've stayed longer."

"Nah," Sam said, shaking his head and blinking several times when everything wobbled with him instead of staying still like it normally did. "She was here for almost two months, tha's more'n long enough."

Dean leaned forward and frowned at Sam. "Sammy… are you drunk?"

"Took you long enough," Ruby chuckled. Sam tried to shoot her a glare, but the world hadn't stopped wobbling just yet.

"Seriously?" Dean asked her, sounding annoyed. "Did you bring something here?"

"Vodka," Ruby said, "and Sam asked me to get it."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Just vodka?"

"Yes!" Ruby snapped loudly. "Fuck, you really think I'd try _anything_ with Sam? After everything else that's happened?"

"I just —"

"Quit bein' a jerk," Sam sighed, cutting Dean off. The cat was out of the bag, so he just let go. "You're so mean sometimes. And short. Always short, short short shorty." A giggle escaped before he could stop it.

"Well you're the size of a mammoth," Dean returned, sounding put out. "Jesus, Sam, I said you could drink some beer, not go all out and get smashed."

Sam pouted and crossed his arms.

"So mature," Ruby said with a grin.

"So are you gonna kiss at midnight?" Jo asked her mother and Bobby across the room.

"It's like you got a wild hair up your ass or somethin'," Bobby grumbled. Ellen snorted and smacked his arm. "What? It's been love an' marriage all night, like she's got nothin' better to talk about!"

"Only because I think you two deserve to be happy," Jo pointed out, "and you'd have to be blind to think you two weren't doing that for each other."

"Two minutes to midnight!" Ruby announced, and Sam lurched to his feet.

"Didn't you two kiss back in that barn?" he asked curiously when he was sure he had his balance. "I thought Jo said she saw you."

Bobby looked down and readjusted his ball cap.

"We did," Ellen said without embarrassment. "Kiss, I mean."

"Then go for it!" Sam said. "All the happy memories."

"Exactly," Jo said. "Everyone agrees with me, right?"

Even Ruby agreed. Sam thought that was pretty cool.

* * *

><p>"<em>I wish I could help you resolve your feelings about that friend of yours," Missouri says gently. Sam doesn't have to ask who she's talking about.<em>

"_Yeah," he says. "Me, too. It's just… the way Dani was talking that night in the graveyard, like she thought she had no choice but to do the things she was doing…"_

_Letting out a frustrated growl, Sam turns away. He wants to get out of the house, wants to scream and rage at the sky until someone can give him the answers he's looking for._

_He wants Danielle alive._

_He wants Dean out of his Deal._

_He wants John back with them._

_He wants Jess back in his arms._

"_You can't keep hangin' on to all that pain and anger," Missouri says in a soft voice._

"_I don't know what to do with it," Sam sighs. "I've never known what to do with it."_

"_Well, leaving it to fester inside your soul only lets the Devil have power over you," Missouri tells him firmly._

"_You believe in the Devil?" Sam asks._

"_Same as I believe in angels," Missouri answers honestly. She has been so patient with Sam, so gentle and understanding it kind of makes his heart hurt. He doesn't deserve it, not with how tainted he is._

"_Now you can stop thinkin' like that, Sam Winchester," Missouri scolded Sam lightly, a protective love flaring from her like the sun. It's almost overwhelming, but it seems that Sam's doomed to start crying anyway._

"_Everything's going wrong," he tells Missouri, wiping hastily at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. "And everything about myself is a lie or a manipulation and I just feel so lost —"_

_Missouri is wrapping her arms around Sam before he realizes what's going on, and then he knows he can't keep it all inside, anymore._

_He lets go and allows Missouri to hold his head above the water for a little while. When the tears slow and he comes to, it's no longer Missouri who's holding him up, but Dean._

_Dean has given up everything for Sam._

_Sam has to save him or die trying. There's nothing else to it._

* * *

><p>"Y'know," Sam said, dropping down next to Dean on the couch and staring up at the ceiling, "Dean, you're the bes' big brother <em>ever<em>. Ever ever."

"Is that so?" Dean asked, sounding faintly amused. Sam turned his head and looked at his brother. He was much more interesting than the ceiling, anyway.

"Yeah," Sam said earnestly. "I never tell you that often enough, but s'true. No one's better a' bein' a brother than you."

Jo, who was watching the clock, started counting down from ten. She had cornered Ellen and Bobby together to make sure they kissed when the old clock on the wall struck twelve while Ruby watched on with amusement.

"I'm gonna save you," Sam said, watching their friends and feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. "I'm gonna do it."

"Sam —" Dean started.

"I mean it," Sam said, turning back to his brother. "They can't have you, Dean. You're _mine_, not theirs."

Dean looked at him with a steady gaze. The clock started chiming and Sam threw his arms around Dean, hugging him tightly as Jo started cheering for her mother and Bobby.

Sam didn't remember too much of the night after that, but Dean cheerfully told him the next morning that he'd hugged everyone, kissed Ruby (_"Which, by the way, ew, bro." "Well, I thought drunk Sam was an awesome kisser." "Fuuuuck. Ruby, that was more than I ever wanted to know about my little brother!"_), told Dean loudly and tearfully in front of the group that he was the bestest big brother the world had ever known and then proceeded to pass out on the kitchen floor. The hangover was a bitch of its own kind (nothing like withdrawal, thank God), but it had all been worth it.

Because for the first time, Dean was finally accepting that Sam was going to do everything he could to save him.

For the first time, Dean's surface emotions were admitting that he _wanted_ to be saved. That he really believed that he _deserved_ it.

There was no better gift than that.

* * *

><p><em>TBC... :)<em>


	19. Nineteen: Nightmares

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Nineteen: Nightmares**

**Praise my Muse! The words for this chapter flowed so well it spilled over into another chapter that's already halfway done! How crazy-awesome is that? :D Anyway, are you guys ready to get into my version of "Dream a Little Dream of Me"? It's gonna be a fun and crazy ride, I promise. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"<em>We stay together, and we stay alive, and we'll get through this."<em>

— _Dean Winchester, "Demon Virus"_

* * *

><p>The days went by, and Sam continued to improve. The shakiness in his hands lessened bit by bit and he was able to do more and more for himself. Dean couldn't begin to express how relieved it made him feel that Sam wasn't giving up.<p>

Meanwhile, life continued to progress. Bobby and Ellen caught wind of a case in Pittsburgh while Jo found what looked to be vampires in Sacramento. Ellen didn't want her daughter going off by herself, and while Sam was doing so much better, Dean wasn't sure he was up for a job that labor intensive just yet.

"I got an old friend I can try," Bobby said, "but I don't know how willing he'll be."

The man was named Rufus, and he was as old and stubborn as Bobby was, if not more so. Jo called to say that the Hunter was claiming to be off the job forever, but Ellen called and somehow managed to put the man straight. Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know how that conversation had gone, but he was glad that Jo wasn't going to be out on her own.

Sam and Dean stayed at the house and kept an eye on Bobby's various phones, but then a desperate phone call from Ellen changed everything.

* * *

><p>Bela headed down the hallway of a Pittsgurgh hotel with a jar of African Dream Root bouncing against her hip from its place in her purse. She really hadn't been expecting an opportunity like this and she was already aware that she was going to have to be careful with her thoughts and emotions. Back at the end of September, she had been in Nevada doing some spirit communicating so she and the man she was working with could find an old talisman when her session had been interrupted by a wave of power, the likes of which she had never felt before.<p>

And the results had been like nothing she'd ever seen, either. At least that man she'd been with had woken up again after getting stuck in a week-long coma…

According to Bela's research, that strange surge of power had happened the same night the FBI had saved supposedly 'saved' Sam Winchester from the crazy Gordon Walker and his cohorts before he mysteriously vanished from the hospital in Payson, Utah.

The outskirts of the nearby town of Salem seemed to be the epicenter of that power surge. It couldn't be a coincidence.

Bela had felt the effects of Sam's power before in New York, had witnessed more than what the murmurs of disgruntled Hunters had suggested was possible in North Carolina, and she knew she had to be careful. If that power surge had really come from Sam…

When she spoke to those spirits in Nevada again, they seemed to believe that Sam had been the one responsible. A demon she had watched a Hunter in Idaho exorcize two weeks later had completely believed it, too, had said that Sam was so much more than just some weird psychic. Every single time Bela thought she had finally figured out the youngest Winchester, something else happened to surprise her.

So. Here she was.

_Knock knock knock._

The hotel room door opened.

"Bela?" Dean was genuinely surprised. Bela hadn't expected that.

"Didn't your little brother sense I was coming?" she asked briskly, sailing into the room and depositing her purse on the nearest bed before she realized she could hear the shower running. It cut off a few seconds later. "Ah, that would explain it." She pulled off her trench coat and dropped it next to her purse.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked curtly. "You said on the phone —"

"I know what I said," Bela cut him off. "I thought I'd bring what you asked for in exchange for answers."

"Answers?" Dean echoed disbelievingly. "What the hell kinda questions are you wantin' to ask?"

The bathroom door opened and a surprisingly skinny Sam stepped out, hastily dressed with his hair wrapped up in a towel.

"They're about your brother," Bela said simply, taking in Sam's weight loss and wondering what had really happened that day in September.

"No," Dean said shortly.

"Dean," Sam said warily, and Bela noticed that his hands were trembling just enough to be noticeable. He quickly folded his arms and dropped his gaze.

"No," Dean repeated more forcefully. "She's already seen more than she should've, Sam. I am _not_ handing over secrets that could mean your death to a fuckin' thief, okay?"

"I procure unique items for a select clientele," Bela said, sitting down next to her purse.

"Exactly," Dean said. "A thief."

"A great thief, really," Bela replied with a smile.

"Stealing from me twice does not make you great," Dean said with narrowed eyes. "Get out."

Bela lounged back on her hands, crossed one leg over the other, and smiled, instead.

Dean huffed in frustration. "How are we supposed to know that you aren't gathering information for someone with enough money?" he asked, taking a seat at the desk chair. Sam leaned against the windowsill next to it, arms still folded tightly against his chest.

"I'm not," Bela said to Dean before looking up at Sam.

"She's telling the truth," Sam said quietly.

"Unless she's found some kind of mojo that makes you think she is," Dean replied tersely.

"Those have a slight edge of unreal-ness to them," Sam said. Dean turned around to frown at Sam. "Missouri did some spells, used a couple talismans on me so I could learn the difference."

"When did that happen?"

"When you and Bobby were taking five hours cutting down that tree for the house," Sam replied with a shrug.

"_Any_way," Bela said, "you said you needed the Dream Root for Bobby, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I said that," Dean said, still eyeing her mistrustfully as Sam began towel-drying his hair. "So?"

"So," Bela said, pushing herself upright again as she kept her gaze locked on Dean, "he gave me a good deal in Flagstaff once, saved me a lot of time and trouble with some particularly picky clients. I know he's a good man and I think it's pretty obvious that he means a great deal to the both of you."

Dean's gaze was stony. "What's your point?"

"My point," Bela sighed and looked up at Sam again. "Sam, I have no interest in selling secrets about your abilities to the highest bidder, but something happened at the end of September, something I think you did that I could feel clear over in western Nevada."

Sam's breath caught, but he didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Dean," he finally spoke, and his voice had gone hoarse as he clutched the wet towel in his hands. "Maybe we should —"

"No," Dean said sharply.

"But if that was the same night and she felt it from that far away —"

"I'm not repeating myself again, Sam!" Dean shoved himself to his feet and nearly knocked over his chair, which prompted Bela into rising as well as the older Hunter stepped right into her space. "What are you playing at?" he ground out in a low voice. "What's the scheme this time?"

Bela evenly met Dean's hard, green-eyed gaze. "I only want to know the truth," she said softly. "The power surge I felt that night could have killed me if I hadn't reacted quickly enough and cut myself off from the spirits I was communicating with at that time." She looked past Dean and met Sam's gaze. "As it is, it put the man I was working with in a coma for a week."

It was the truth, but it had the desired effect she'd been hoping for, anyway. She had gotten through to Sam, it was more than clear from his wide-eyed gaze.

"All the ghosts and demons think it was you, Sam," Bela said to seal the deal. "Tell me I'm not wrong."

There was a long moment of silence.

"You're not wrong," Sam whispered at long last. Dean growled and moved away. "Everyone knows, Dean, or at least suspects the truth…" He shook his head, damp hair sticking to his forehead before he pushed it off with one hand and gestured helplessly. "It's just like Ruby said."

"I know, Sam," Dean said, voice suddenly sounding weary. "I know."

Bela gave the brothers about a minute of silence before she quietly asked Sam what had happened that night in September. Sam provided few details, but still managed to answer her questions thoroughly enough to satisfy her curiosity.

When she handed over the Dream Root and asked to go along, Dean flat-out refused her. "I wouldn't want you in my _own_ brain, let alone Bobby's," he said firmly, handing the jar to Sam and pointing to the door. Bela watched as Sam went to the closet and revealed a safe from the corner of her eye as she glared at Dean. Sam opened the safe and tucked the jar next to an antique Colt revolver.

"Fine," she finally said to Dean. "I hope you get trapped in Bobby's head for the rest of your life."

"Sounds better than being chomped to death by Hellhounds," Dean replied with faint smirk.

Bela blinked. He didn't know that… no, he must've been referring to someone else, maybe himself. Bela gave Dean a tight smile and went to retrieve her purse and coat. As she made to leave the hotel room, she heard Dean saying on his phone, "Hey, Ellen? We got our hands on some more of that Dream Root. How is he…? Yeah, fair enough. Are you gonna stay…? Oh. Well, d'ya think it's wise to have all three of us…? Okay, sorry. I know, just… Get here as fast as you can, then. Yeah, I know. Me, too."

Bela caught a quick glimpse of the concerned look on Dean's face before she allowed the door to swing shut behind her. She waited until she had left the hotel completely before she allowed her next thought to surface.

_Show time._

* * *

><p>A part of Ellen wanted to stay by Bobby's side in the hospital while Sam and Dean went into his dreams to try and retrieve him, but she knew she had to convince him herself if she could. It was her fault for letting him interview that idiot boy on his own in the first place, her fault for letting Jeremy Frost get a hold of some of Bobby's DNA to use against him just as he'd been doing with the doctor who had been conducting that sleep study. At least she had been able to prevent the same from happening to herself and the Winchesters.<p>

Her cell phone started ringing again as she slid into the drivers seat of Bobby's van. "Hello?"

"How's he doing, Mom?"

"Still sleeping," Ellen sighed, turning the ignition and backing out of her parking spot. "Sam and Dean got some more Dream Root, though, so we'll be able to go in and hopefully get him to wake up."

"I know you can do it," Jo said. "How did they get more of that stuff, though? I thought you said that doctor only had a very small supply left from his sleep study thing and I know it's really hard to find."

"Dean said they were going to ask that Bela Talbot woman," Ellen replied, pulling into traffic and heading for the hotel. "I can only assume they managed to work out some kind of deal that didn't involve tons of money."

"I don't like her," Jo said at once.

"You've never really met her," Ellen said.

"Neither have you," Jo shot back, "but based on that Hunt she did with Sam and Dean in North Carolina, I can't help but think her a tricky woman with sticky fingers and only her best interests in mind."

"Well, she can't deceive Sam," Ellen said, "so I think it's fair to say that they got the Dream Root without having to give up something important like the Colt. They're smart boys."

"Yeah, I know," Jo said. "Just… I still wouldn't trust her even _if_ I could feel her every emotions."

"I hear ya," Ellen agreed with a chuckle. "Listen, I'm almost back to the hotel, but I'll call just as soon as I save Bobby and wake up again. You be careful with those vampires out there, okay?"

"Don't worry about me," Jo said, sounding suddenly cheerful. "You getting Rufus to leave his house for this job has been too much fun for me."

"Sounds like you're having an interesting time out there, then."

"Oh, I am. Take care, Mom."

"Yeah, you too."

Ellen flipped her phone shut and parked the van as it started to rain. When she stepped into the hotel room, Sam was busy pouring the Dream Root tea into three cups. "Got our Essence of Bobby?" Dean asked dryly.

With a small smile, Ellen reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. "It's got a few hairs in it," she said, handing it to Sam.

"Thanks," he murmured, but his hands were shaking too much to properly open it.

"I got it," Ellen finally said, moving closer, but then it envelope opened on its own. Telekinesis, Ellen reminded herself wryly as she reached inside and pulled out the hairs.

When the tea was finally ready, the three Hunters settled down on the two beds. "Let's do this," Ellen said after a moment of silence. "Let's bring Bobby back alive."

The brothers nodded, and after clinking the cups together, they all drank down the tea as fast as they could.

It tasted like ass and was a little difficult to swallow because Ellen wanted to just throw it back up, same as the last time she and Bobby had tried it. "Ugh," Dean said, "that was disgusting."

"A second time around isn't any better," Ellen told him with a shudder.

"I don't feel any different, though," Dean said. "Do you?"

"No," Ellen said, "but that's how it was the first time, too. Until we noticed little details that didn't quite fit into what's normal in the waking world."

"Sam?" Dean asked.

"It's different," Sam said, rising and walking to the window. "It's raining up, by the way."

Dean moved over and looked out. "Yeah, it is," he said. "Good times."

"Okay," Ellen said, rising and clapping her hands together. "Now we just need to explore until we find Bobby."

"Do you think he's doing okay?" Dean asked.

"It felt like he was having a nightmare before," Sam said somberly. "I doubt that's changed in the last few minutes."

"Awesome," Dean sighed. "What could Bobby be having nightmares about, I wonder?"

Ellen wasn't sure she really wanted to know, but she had committed herself to finding him, and given the way she felt about him, she knew she had to learn to love and accept everything about him, good and bad. "Only one way to find out," she finally answered, stepping over to the boys and glancing outside before turning around to find they were now standing in Bobby's study, albeit a much cleaner, nicer-looking version of it that they had never seen before.

"Fast scene change," Dean remarked. "I've never seen the place looking this good and we've been coming here for years."

Sam nodded and furrowed his brow. "Bobby's close," he said after a moment. "I can feel him."

"Good," Ellen said. "Should we spread out or stick together?"

"It might go faster if we spread out," Dean said with a shrug. "He knows all three of us, I'm sure any one of us could convince him that this is all just a dream."

"Okay, then," Ellen said, nodding thoughtfully, "Dean, check upstairs, Sam can look outside and I'll take this floor and the basement."

The brothers nodded and they went their separate ways.

Of course, they were all going to regret this decision very soon.

Figures.

* * *

><p>Sam opened the kitchen door and stepped outside, blinking rapidly in the bright sunlight suddenly shining down on him. The door swung shut behind him and he frowned at his surroundings.<p>

The outside no longer looked anything like Bobby's junkyard. Sam turned around and startled at how _blue_ the exterior of the house now was, like the color of the sky. "Ellen?" he called out, grabbing the door handle and turning it.

It wouldn't turn. Sam tried again and bit his lip.

"Separating was a bad idea," he sighed. "Crap."

He tried peering in through the windows, but even though he could see Ellen still looking around, he couldn't sense her presence, let alone Bobby's or Dean's. He ran a hand through his hair and turned away, leaving the porch to explore his surroundings.

It wasn't like there was anything else he could do, right?

* * *

><p>The upper level of Bobby's house didn't look like Bobby's house at all. Dean stared at the hallway with a frown. It was a good three times longer than it was supposed to be. "What the…?"<p>

It took a second, but then he realized that he was in the hallway their hotel room was located in.

Weird. Dean scowled and turned around to go back downstairs, only to smack into a closed door. "Ow!" Dean rubbed his nose and stepped back, taking in his surroundings with a more critical eye.

The hallway did resemble the hotel's, that was true, but it seemed to be completely enclosed with nothing but doors to different hotel rooms. Scowling, Dean started walking down towards the other end. Maybe there was a hidden corner that would lead to a hallway he could use to get out of this place.

But Dean had no suck luck. It really _was_ completely enclosed. "Fuck," Dean groaned before rubbing his mouth with one hand. He turned around and headed down to the door with room number he and Sam had been staying in. It turned out he had his room key on him, so he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"Sam?" he called out. "Ellen?"

And then he spotted a male figure sitting at the desk in the corner. He frowned, stepped forward and froze when the figure stood up and turned around.

He was facing himself.

* * *

><p>Ellen looked around the main level of the house, softly calling out for Bobby, but there was no answer. She was about to try the basement when she remembered a closet she had walked past without a second thought. Why had she done that?<p>

"Bobby?" she called, reaching the closet door and slowly turning the handle. "Bobby, are you in here?"

The door opened with a small squeak, and at first Ellen thought it was filled with nothing but old coats, but then one shifted and Bobby lurched out of the corner, grabbing Ellen's arm and dragging her inside without a second thought. "Quickly," he hissed, pulling the door shut with a panicked expression.

"What's going on?" Ellen asked him, feeling confused. "Bobby…?"

"She's coming back," Bobby told her. "She always comes back, I'm never gonna get away from her."

"From who?" Ellen asked, feeling a coil of dread in her heart.

Bobby glanced at her and whispered, "Karen."

* * *

><p>Sam was confused as to how he'd ended up in such a peaceful, cleaned-up version of the exterior of Bobby's house. Then he thought back and realized that the inside had been almost unrecognizable, too, but he'd still known where he was.<p>

Then he spotted clean sheets on the clothesline and began to wonder if this was Bobby's childhood or something. He knew the man had grown up in the house and inherited it after his parents died, but this was too perfect for the man he knew. He wandered over, passing a manmade pond and a bird feeder filled with happy, chattering birds that were abruptly chased off by the arrival of a couple of squirrels. The fluffy-tailed creatures descended on the feeder with gusto and Sam chuckled a little.

Then something hard connected with the back of his skull and he knew the peaceful atmosphere was deceiving. He hit the ground with a grunt and turned onto his back to see a guy he recognized from Ellen and Bobby's research as Jeremy Frost. Jeremy was holding a metal baseball bat. "Who are you?" he asked, sounding both angry and bewildered. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Sam glared at Jeremy. "What are _you_ doing here?" he retorted, stumbling to his feet in a backwards direction that put a good ten feet of space between himself and his attacker. "This is Bobby Singer's dream, Jeremy, not yours. You need to let him out of it right now."

Jeremy narrowed his eyes and then smirked. "I guess that's his real name," he said. "But it's _my_ dream to control, and I'm not letting the old man go for anything."

He snapped his fingers and suddenly he and Sam were standing in the woods at night. "I don't like you being here," he told Sam darkly before swinging the metal bat hard into his stomach. Sam groaned and tripped backwards.

When he hit the ground again, ropes attached to railroad spikes sprung from the earth and tied him down. Sam struggled to free himself, but he felt powerless to stop what was happening. "Why the hell are you doing this?" he demanded. "Why are you holding Bobby hostage like this? Why kill that doctor who was helping you to dream?"

"So you know all about that? I don't think I've seen you before." Jeremy was holding the bat tightly in his hands as he slowly advanced. "And the doctor took it all away from me. He had to pay for that."

"Took — wait, he _stopped_ your participation in that sleep study?"

Jeremy clenched his jaw. "I haven't been able to dream since I was a kid," he said shortly. "The Dream Root changed that. Best thing ever, you know? But then the good doctor said I was misusing it and took it away."

He stepped forward, raised the bat and swung it down hard onto Sam's bound legs. Sam couldn't stop his pained yell from escaping, and he realized that he might actually be in over his head.

He had to take control and escape or he'd never get out of this place.

* * *

><p>"It's about time," other-Dean said with a small smile. "I've been waiting for way too long."<p>

"I'm so sorry," Dean replied sarcastically. "I never thought I'd be late to my friend's dream. Nightmare. Whatever."

"This isn't Bobby's nightmare, Dean," his doppleganger told him as he gestured around the room. "This is yours."

Dean frowned. "I don't understand. I drank the Dream Root and it had Bobby's hair in it."

"And yet," other-Dean said, "here we are." He grinned and leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms and looking cool as a cucumber.

"Uh-huh," Dean said. "So, what? You're my evil side? Gonna tell me to join Darth Vader's troops and destroy the world?"

Other-Dean laughed and shook his head. "It's not that simple, Dean," he said. "I'm every fear you have, every dark corner of your psyche, all the things you pretend aren't in that noggin o'yours." He tapped his own forehead and grinned some more. "I'm all the things you could be, Dean, all the parts of yourself that you deny."

"I'm not denying anything," Dean snorted. Other-Dean pushed off from the desk and stepped forward, Dean automatically stepping back at an angle. Next thing he knew, they were slowly circling each other.

"No, you just skirt around the edges and pretend the tip of the iceburg doesn't go any deeper," his evil twin said like he was discussing a game of golf or something. "But the truth is there is _so much_ hiding under the surface, Dean. All the things you could be. The killer, the psychopath —"

"Whoa," Dean cut him off, "there are _no_ psychopath longings in this brain, I'm pretty sure I'd know if there was something like that."

Other-Dean grinned and stopped moving. When he spoke again, Dean couldn't help but recognize the words coming out of his mouth. "Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn't hesitate, I didn't even _flinch_. For you or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or _kill_, it's just, uh... it scares me sometimes."

The tone was right, the inflections, every last detail except for the look on the doppleganger's face. Dean had said those words to Sam in that cabin before they'd discovered that their father was possessed by Azazel. He'd said those words before his brother was taken away from him for a whole month and doped up on demon's blood.

"I can tell you remember that night," other-Dean said quietly. "But I can also tell you weren't telling the entire truth, either." He started moving again, Dean mirroring him with a feeling of dread in his stomach. "You have no qualms with torture, Dean. You did it for your family, true, but how many steps away is that from doing it for your own pleasure?"

"It's not even in the same league," Dean ground out with clenched fists. "I would _never_ harm an innocent person —"

"Megan Masters was a real girl, remember?" Other-Dean laughed at Dean's sharp intake of breath. "A real girl with a real life and you tortured her long after her body was already too broken to repair."

"I didn't know —"

"It barely changed things even _after_ you knew," other-Dean cut him off sharply. "Didn't. Even. Flinch." He smirked, coming to a stop in front of the desk once more. "But all of that? It's got _nothing_ on how much you hate yourself."

Dean gazed at the doppleganger and said nothing.

* * *

><p>Ellen stared at Bobby in the dim lighting of the closet. She knew he'd been married before, years ago, but she only knew that his wife was dead and nothing about the circumstances in which that death had happened.<p>

"Is Karen… is she your wife?" she asked quietly.

That's when a body slammed into the closet door and a woman started screaming various obscenities, which included "you killed me!" and "you crazy fucker, come stab me some more!" among other things.

"I killed her," Bobby said, voice shaking. Ellen had never seen him so afraid in her life, and she wasn't sure how to react to that.

The screaming stopped and then there was silence again. "Bobby," Ellen said, "you know this is only a dream, right?"

Bobby stared at her. "What?"

Ellen bit her lip and opened the closet door. There was no one out there. "It isn't real," she said firmly. "Bobby, you've been dreaming for almost two days now, I couldn't wake you up and I didn't have more Dream Root until now to come and get you out." She carefully grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the closet with her. "It's nothing more than a nightmare," she said, "and you need to wake up or else you'll die."

Bobby stared at her for a few seconds, but then his gaze slid over her shoulder and his eyes went wide. "Does _that_ look fake to you?" he asked, and he sounded so terrified that Ellen couldn't keep herself from turning around.

And then she knew she was in a nightmare.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	20. Twenty: Undeserving

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Twenty: Undeserving  
><strong>

**Time to finish up "DaLDoM". I used dialogue from the actual episode in a few places, but most of was me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>"I'm a new level of freak."<em>

— _Sam Winchester, "Demon Blood"_

* * *

><p>The woman standing in front of Ellen was wearing a white nightgown covered in bloodstains. Her chest was a mash of stab wounds and her eyes were wild and crazy. Bobby dragged Ellen away as the woman started screaming and headed for the study.<p>

"You did this to me!" the woman screeched in an ear-splitting tone as Bobby slammed the door shut and ran for the rolling doors that opened into the kitchen. Ellen quickly moved forward to help him, feeling her heart race when the woman entered the kitchen and headed straight for them, eyes black and angry. The doors clunked together.

"Get some twine," Bobby told Ellen as the doors shook with the force of the woman's body slamming into them. Ellen grabbed a roll of twine from the top of Bobby's desk and helped him to tie the doors shut.

The woman — _Karen_, Ellen thought to herself — screamed a little more, slammed into the doors one last time, and then everything went silent.

"Bobby," Ellen gasped, "what's going on?"

"She…" Bobby wiped the sweat off his brow before slamming his old ball cap back on. "She tried… to kill me. I didn't know what I know now and so I… I stabbed her, but she didn't stop! I didn't know, Ellen, I didn't!"

Ellen watched as Bobby sank onto the edge of his desk and felt a fierce pang of sadness. "This is only a dream," she said, slowly moving towards Bobby and placing her hands on his shoulders. "If this… if this is how Karen died, then it was years ago. It's in the past."

Bobby raised his eyes to meet her, and she could see that he did not yet believe her. She prayed she could reach him before the nightmare became too much and consumed him completely.

* * *

><p>"You are pathetic," other-Dean said like it was a simple, well-known truth. "You look in the mirror and wonder why you even get out of bed in the mornings. You <em>want<em> your life to be over."

"That's not true," Dean said, but the doppleganger laughed.

"Maybe you don't think you necessarily deserve to go to Hell, and maybe you think Sammy's gonna do everything he can to save you, but…" He shrugged his shoulders. "Fact is you would rather be dead than keep on going."

"No," Dean said.

"Yes," other-Dean whispered before laughing again. "You're so tired of making all the hard choices, I mean, remember what you did to Sam in that barn three and a half months ago? He's _still_ getting over it and you think it's all your fault for letting him — no, _choosing_ to have him do it. You made the hard choice and saved over a hundred lives but you hate yourself for it, anyway because of what it did to your baby brother. There is just _so_ much _hatred_ in your brain, and you put it _all_ on yourself."

Dean swallowed hard and silently wished he could just wake the fuck up right now.

* * *

><p>"I <em>need<em> to dream!" Jeremy shouted, hitting Sam hard in the side with the bat. Sam grunted and pulled on the ropes binding him to the ground again. "I've been _awake_ for fifteen _fucking_ years and he took it _away_ from me!"

He brutally beat Sam up with the bat and Sam couldn't hold back his cries of pain as the blows got progressive harder.

"They _both_ took it away from me!" Jeremy all but screamed. "What the _fuck_ do they even know? First my dad, then that doctor…" He trailed off, grumbling to himself.

"You can't —" Sam gasped in pain. "Can't just _kill_ people… not like this."

Jeremy kneeled down and glared at Sam. "I am a mother-fucking _god_ in this place," he hissed, eyes wild with the lust of power. "That Dream Root gives me all the power to do whatever I want, and no one's ever gonna stop me from dreaming ever again."

Sam blinked, mind dredging up a conversation he'd had with Ellen about the case after he and Dean had first arrived.

"_So, this African Dream Root," Sam says, looking up from the papers Ellen handed him upon his and Dean's arrival in Pittsburgh, "you take enough of it for long enough and it turns you into a regular Freddy Krueger?"_

"_With enough practice? Pretty much," Ellen says with a sigh, running a hand through her mussed-up hair. "That boy Bobby interviewed, Jeremy Frost got a hold of both Bobby and Doctor Gregg's DNA and broke into their dreams." She rubs her mouth as Sam looks over Jeremy's picture and basic history, including pictures of both his parents. His father's been dead for years. "We tried to help the doctor, but he didn't believe us when we said it was a dream and died in that damned coma, instead."_

"_That sucks," Dean says from one of the beds. "Why didn't he trap you, too?"_

"_I wasn't there when Bobby interviewed Frost," Ellen replies. "I was digging through Doctor Gregg's things to get what little Dream Root we were able to use for that one shot of helping him." She shakes her head. "I should've gone with Bobby, instead."_

"_You can't blame yourself," Sam says at once, "there was no way you could've known this was going to happen." He looks down at the picture of Jeremy Frost again. "The power to control your dreams," he murmurs. "Sounds like a big temptation for a guy who hasn't dreamed in fifteen years."_

"_It's his daddy's fault, too," Ellen says. "He took a baseball bat to the kid's head, gave him that Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome thing he's had ever since. I tried tracking Frost down when I realized Bobby wasn't waking up, but he'd already cleared out of his dorm room." She nods at the picture of Henry Frost, the father. "That's when I found that extra paperwork on him and learned how he took the kid's ability to dream in the first place."_

Sam looked back up at Jeremy. "I took the Dream Root, too," he said. Jeremy frowned.

"Your point?"

Sam grunted as Jeremy swung the bat at his ribs again. "My point — aagh… Fuck, my point, Jeremy…" He met the guy's eyes and glared. "It means I've got power, too."

Sam focused with every fiber of his being, focused on dredging up the one thing that might actually scare the psycho.

"JEREMY!"

Jeremy froze, staring at Sam with wide eyes before dropping the baseball bat and slowly turning around to take in the form of his father.

"No…" Jeremy whispered. "No!"

Sam's bindings loosened and he was free.

* * *

><p>"It was better when you were a mindless soldier, always doing what Dad said."<p>

"No," Dean repeated almost desperately.

"But you were supposed to be his carbon-copy," other-Dean said, throwing his hands up with raised eyebrows. "Music was Dad's, the leather jacket was Dad's, the car, your dreams, I mean, have you really had an original thought or _want _in your entire life?" He laughed. "'Watch out for Sammy!' That was Dad's first commandment that you have never stopped following. And now you're going to Hell because of it." He shook his head with a pitying expression.

"Stop it," Dean whispered.

"You were the attack dog," other-Dean said, grabbing a sawed-off from the desk and advancing on Dean. "You were the mindless soldier he trained into perfection, but Sam? He doted on that kid, loved him in a way he could _never_ love you."

Dean backed away, shaking his head.

"I am _nothing_ but the thoughts in your head," other-Dean said harshly. "The things you would never say to Sam, the thoughts you barely let cross your mind. You know that Sam was always more like Dad than you could ever _hope_ to be. Dad _loved_ the way he and Sam clashed, the way Sam was like some puzzle he had to try and figure out because he never understood that he was fighting the _real_ copy of himself. You were _nothing_, Dean. Dad never gave a shit if you lived or died!"

"NO!" Dean rushed forward and shoved the doppleganger so hard he dropped the sawed-off and landed hard on the desk. "My father was an obsessive bastard!"

Other-Dean tried to get back up, but Dean kicked him hard and knocked him back down before he grabbed the fallen shotgun and pinned the doppleganger to the wall with it. "All that bullshit he dumped on me," Dean snarled at the fake version of himself, "about protecting Sam? That was _his_ fucking bullshit, _his_ crap. _He's_ the one who couldn't protect his family. He —" Dean broke off, stepped back and swung the gun hard, knocking it against other-Dean's face from one side and then again from the other.

"_He's_ the one who let Mom die," Dean continued harshly, dragging the doppelganger back upright and pinning him to the wall again with the gun. "Who wasn't there for Sam. I _always_ was! He wasn't fair!"

Dean backed away from other-Dean and lifted the sawed-off up with sure hands. "I _didn't_ deserve what he put on me," he shouted, undoing the safety and aiming the weapon, "I don't wanna die and_ I don't deserve to go to Hell!"_

_BAM! BAM!_

The shotgun went off twice and the evil twin slammed into the wall before dropping lifelessly back onto the desk, green eyes gazing sightlessly at nothing. Dean dropped the gun, breathing hard.

* * *

><p>"Bobby," Ellen said desperately, "look at me, please."<p>

Bobby met her eyes with a confused look.

"Honey," she said, "you never met me until well after Karen had died. You _know_ this, somewhere in that big ol' brain of yours, I _know_ you do."

"But —" Bobby began.

"We met after the first time Bill worked a job with you," Ellen told him. "You were the one to introduce us to John Winchester, remember? Bill died while working a job with John two years later, and then John and I didn't talk until after Azazel kidnapped Sam. Please, Bobby, you _know_ all the things that have happened since this awful day, I _know_ it." She placed her hands on either side of Bobby's face, leaned in and kissed him. "I love you," she whispered, eyes clenched shut to try and stop her tears. "Come back to me."

Karen rammed into the door and screamed again, but then that scream cut off abruptly. Ellen opened her eyes in the ringing silence that followed.

Bobby's eyes had trust and belief in them as he breathed softly against her face. "Ellen," he said softly.

Ellen sniffed and hugged Bobby tightly. "You need to wake up now, Bobby. Can you do that?"

Bobby nodded against her shoulder and Ellen knew everything was finally going to be okay.

* * *

><p>"<em>Jeremy!"<em>

"D-dad?"

Jeremy's father slowly moved forward, dark eyes angry and threatening. "You _answer_ me when I'm talking to you, boy!"

Sam grabbed the bat from where Jeremy had dropped it, rose to his feet and swung his newfound weapon as hard as he could. Jeremy jerked hard from the hard blow to the head. Sam panted hard as he gripped the bat more tightly and swung it again.

_CRACK!_

Jeremy's eyes were wide, his jaw slack and his skull misshapen as he dropped to the ground, dead. Sam let go of the bat, panting hard and closing his eyes tightly —

* * *

><p>Other-Dean's eyes suddenly swirled black and he was moving again, rising off the desk and advancing on Dean with a feral look on his blood-spattered face. "You can't <em>escape<em> me, Dean," he snarled in a hard and angry voice. "You're gonna die, and this?" He gestured to the eyes, to the insane expression. _"This is what you're gonna become!"_

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light —

* * *

><p>Sam jerked awake and groaned, clenching his jaw and wrapping an arm tightly over his ribs.<p>

"Sam?" Dean asked a second later. "Ellen?"

"M'wake," Ellen said, sitting bolt upright. "You?"

"Alive an' kickin'," Dean sighed. "Sam?"

Sam groaned again.

"Dude, are you okay?"

"Maybe," Sam grunted, forcing himself to sit up and wincing at the aching he felt all over his midsection and legs. "Fuuuuuck."

"Sammy, what the hell happened to you?" Dean was instantly kneeling in front of him and gently pressing his fingers against Sam's ribs.

"Met Jeremy," Sam said, wincing as Dean hit a particularly bad bruise. "He beat me up, but I got him back."

"How badly?" Dean asked. "I don't think anything's broken…"

"It was worse in that fuckin' nightmare," Sam admitted. "I didn't think it'd translate quite like this, though. Ugh, that was too Matrix-y for me."

"That fucker," Dean growled, "when I get my hands on him —"

"He's dead," Sam cut Dean off. "I killed him."

Dean paused and looked up at Sam. "How?"

"Gave him a nightmare of his own," Sam replied.

"You figured out what he was scared of?" Ellen asked.

"We had all the right information," Sam said. "It was just a matter of putting the pieces of the puzzle together." He looked down at Dean and frowned. "Did either of you find Bobby?"

Ellen's eyes went wide. "Bobby," she gasped, grabbing her jacket and keys. Five seconds later, the door to the hotel room slammed shut behind her.

Dean chuckled. "Those lovebirds," he remarked, shaking his head with a fond expression. "You sure you're okay, kiddo?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah," he said. "We saved Bobby and stopped a psycho. I'd say that counts as a good night's rest, y'know?"

Dean laughed and slapped Sam's knee right on a bruise that made Sam hiss and wince. "Ow. Jerk."

"Bitch."

* * *

><p>Bobby was trying to get the nurses and doctors to leave him alone when Ellen burst into his hospital room. "Bobby," she whispered the instant she saw him, alive and awake and aware…<p>

"Hey," Bobby said with a small smile. "I'm back."

Ellen shoved the nurses out of her way as she strode right up to the bed, grabbed Bobby's face and kissed him as hard as she could. A moment later, she felt his arms lift up and wrap themselves around her shoulders as he responded. Ellen eased up on the kiss a little and let Bobby take the reigns for a few seconds before she finally pulled back.

"You came back to me," she said with a watery smile.

Bobby smiled more broadly. "You asked me to," he replied. "Well, demanded is more like."

Ellen gave a snort. "Semantics," she said.

"Utter bullshit," Bobby agreed, pulling her back in for another kiss. "Ellen," he said after a few moments, leaning away just enough to see her face. "Marry me?"

Ellen laughed and hugged Bobby as hard as she could. "Yes," she said, smiling so hard it almost hurt. "Yes, in a heartbeat!"

After getting the nurses to leave them alone, Ellen sat down on Bobby's bed properly and clasped one of his hands in hers. "I do want to ask, though," she said with some hesitancy, "about Karen…"

Bobby smiled sadly. "She was possessed by a demon," he said. "I didn't understand at the time, but she attacked me and I… reacted." A tear trailed its way into his beard. "It was Rufus Turner who saved me and taught me everything I know now."

"I'm so sorry," Ellen whispered.

"Yeah," Bobby sighed. "So am I, but it was years an' years ago, now." He looked away and scratched the back of his head. "I used to think I didn't deserve any happiness," he finally admitted. "Used to believe that I'd only screw up if I tried havin' kids or gettin' married… I was happy with Karen, really I was, but a couple nights before the demon got her, we had this… this argument." Ellen gently turned his head and gazed into his eyes, quietly waiting for him to continue.

"I didn't want kids," he said. "It hurt her. Badly. And then she was dead and my world was so different…" He swiped at his eyes and took a shuddering breath. "But then I met John Winchester and started watching the boys and… well, things changed, you know?"

Ellen nodded in acknowledgement.

"I can't live my life with nothin' but regrets," Bobby said. "I really get that now."

"I'm glad," Ellen said. "You deserve all the happiness, Bobby, you really do."

Bobby smiled at her in a way that had never quite happened before, and she knew his heart was 100% in it, now. It was more than she could have ever hoped for.

"So, where's my ring?" she asked. Bobby just laughed and pulled her back into his arms.

* * *

><p>"Where did you end up?" Sam asked Dean after a few minutes of companionable silence. "Did you stick with Ellen to find Bobby?"<p>

Dean's posture tensed slightly. "No," he said. "I…" He sighed and ran his hands over the top of his head, mussing up his spiky hairdo. "I kinda… faced like, the dark corners of my soul or something."

Sam frowned. "What does that mean?"

Dean swallowed and took a deep breath. "It means that I've been doing some more thinking since New Years and uh…" He huffed a small laugh and turned away. "I don't wanna die."

Sam's breath caught. "It was one thing to really accept that you're gonna do everything you can to find and kill this Lilith chick," Dean continued, still facing away, "and maybe I was willing to accept that I don't deserve to go to Hell, but…"

"But you were still ready to throw in the towel," Sam said softly.

Dean nodded after a moment. "Yeah," he said, finally turning to look at Sam again. "I've been so tired for so long, I mean, all the things we've been through and I just…" He sighed and shook his head. "But I'm done with that. I don't want to die, and I don't want to go to Hell."

Sam blinked a few times to hold back his tears and slowly rose. "All right," he said, voice still soft. "I… yeah. We'll find Lilith, Dean. We'll find her and kill her and we'll save you."

Dean nodded. "Okay," he said. "Good."

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Bobby and Ellen came back from the hospital that Dean realized what was different in their hotel room.<p>

The safe wasn't locked.

The safe wasn't locked and the Colt was missing.

"Fuck," he said.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"That bitch!" Dean turned and gestured to the safe. The Dream Root was still located inside, but the space was otherwise empty. "She saw the safe, she came back after we drank that fucking tea and she _took the fucking Colt!_ FUCK!"

* * *

><p>Bela drove away from Pittsburgh as she quickly as she dared, hoping that no cops would notice or pull her over.<p>

The Colt gleamed softly from its place in the passenger seat. Bela glanced at it and smiled. "Step one, bargaining chip," she murmured. "Step two, find a crossroads."

Her little sports car zoomed away the rising sun as she left the city far behind her.

* * *

><p>"That was pretty impressive," Bobby remarked to Sam as they left the hotel behind Ellen and Dean, who were discussing resources and contacts they could use to try and find Bela Talbot. "Doin' some dream-weavin' of your own to fight back against Frost."<p>

Sam shrugged. "I just concentrated and it… happened. Like the TK, only… kinda surreal."

Bobby frowned. "I guess I'll pretend I understood that."

Sam grinned and ducked his head, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets and giving a small chuckle.

"So it was like your psychic thing, though?"

"I guess," Sam said with another shrug. "Maybe that was it."

They continued out of the hotel in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

And then a demon came out of nowhere and rammed hard into Sam.

* * *

><p>Any kind of grunt, groan or cry of pain from Sam was an instant homing beacon to Dean. He cut off mid-sentence in his conversation with Ellen and spun around, reaching into his jacket before he remembered he didn't have the Colt on him. "Fuck," he hissed, running back towards his brother as the person who had tackled him went flying across the parking lot. The guy was up a moment later and Dean almost groaned at the black eyes.<p>

Ruby had mentioned hearing orders that any demon who found the Winchesters was to subdue them by any means necessary. "Lilith's orders, it would seem," she had sighed.

Well, whaddaya know, it was true.

Bobby flung a flask of holy water at the demon when it tried charging again and it jerked away, hissing in pain. Then Sam staggered back into Dean's view, chanting an exorcism as quickly as he could, one hand reaching out in a way that meant he was keeping the demon still, yet reminded Dean of that godforsaken barn in Utah.

Seconds later, the demon was exorcized and its host collapsed to the ground, unconscious. "We need to get out of here," Ellen said. "Now."

Dean couldn't have agreed more.

* * *

><p>"I can't make a Deal with you."<p>

Bela frowned. "Why not? You're a Crossroads Demon, you're supposed to do this kind of thing!"

The demon before her laughed as he straightened his tie. "I don't think you really understand the magnitude or _importance_ of the Deal you made back then." He grinned brightly.

_A girl around Abby's age sits down in the swing next to hers. Neither one says anything for a moment or two._

"_I can kill them," the girl says to Abby. "Kill them both for hurting you."_

_Abby looks up at the other girl. "Why would you do that?" she asks softly._

"_My mum says she saw the way your daddy treats you," says the girl. "The words, the abuse…"_

_Abby flinches and looks down at her knees._

"_You believe that I can do it, right?"_

"_How?" Abby asks._

"_It'll look like an accident," says the girl. "You'll inherit the entire family fortune."_

_Abby frowns. "But… I don't know," she says._

_The other girl smiles as she pushes off the ground with her feet and swings a little. "I can take care of them for you, and it won't even cost you anything… for ten whole years."_

_Abby swallows. "And then what happens?"_

_The girl smiles with red eyes, swinging back and forth. "Then you pay up."_

"I don't understand," Bela said. "That was a demon just like you, red eyes and everything."

"But she was operating under another's authority," the demon before her answered. "The more Deals the boss holds, the more power and sway in Hell she gets."

"So why didn't she make the Deal with me herself?" demanded Bela.

"She was buried too deeply to escape without major help," was the demon's reply. He smirked and leaned against Bela's car. "It took a Devil's Gate to reach where she was."

Bela stepped away from the Crossroad Demon. "Lilith," she whispered. "She's the one who holds my contract?"

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!"

"_Why would you do that for me?" Abby asks. "Why would you kill them for ten years of my life?"_

"_Because my mum says you're special," the girl says. "There's this untapped potential in you, just waiting for its chance to shine." The girl hops down from her swing and steps directly in front of Abby. "I'm here to give you that chance."_

_Abby hesitates for a moment._

_But only for a moment._

"_Do it," she says. "Make them pay."_

_The girl smiles, leans forward and kisses Abby on the lips for a few seconds._

"_Done," she breathes, and then she is gone._

"Lilith holds all the really important contracts," the demon said conversationally. "Yours, Winchester's, this politician over in Arkansas —"

"Wait," Bela said, "you don't mean Dean?"

The demon's red eyes glowed over his smile. "The one and only," he said. "Anyway, I can't help you, not with a Deal as big as yours. Try upper management." He stepped away. "Best of luck to ya."

Bela remained at the crossroad long after the demon had vanished, thinking long and hard over what she had just learned.

Ten years had seemed like an eternity to a fourteen-year-old Abby, but twenty-four-year-old Bela knew better.

Ten years was really nothing at all.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	21. Twenty-One: Love Is

**Demon's Year**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Love Is  
><strong>

**So, it's been a while. I began writing this chapter back in March, but then I got a job and reapplied for college, and my creative juices were somehow squeezed out of me. Absolutely lame, you know? But there wasn't much I could do about it. Anyway, now I'm pregnant, it's finals weeks, and guess who started writing again out of nowhere instead of studying for her college algebra final tomorrow morning? My brain is so weird, sometimes. But here it is, the next chapter. I don't have anything else written past this point, but I'm hoping that maybe I'll get more out over Christmas break. All the same, I can't make any promises. My husband is struggling with unemployment, I'm still struggling with Medicaid when I'm 21 weeks pregnant (it sucks), and I have my PRAXIS test next week (I'm going into Elementary Education!), so we'll have to see. In any case, enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm good, Sammy. We're both good."<em>

— _Dean Winchester, "Journey: All That Really Matters"_

* * *

><p>The moment Jo stepped into the study and looked at her mother and Bobby, she knew something big had happened. She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and stared at the two for a few seconds until she figured it out.<p>

"You finally proposed, didn't you?" she said.

Ellen chuckled. "Is it that obvious?"

Jo pressed her lips together to try and stop her smile, but it just grew until she couldn't contain it anymore. "Yes!" she exclaimed, moving forward and throwing her arms around her mother. "Yes, and it's _perfect!"_

She grinned at Bobby and hugged him next, laughing when he grumbled at her good-naturedly.

"You gettin' hitched, Bobby?" Rufus Turner said as he entered the study. "Well, I'll be damned, never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Rufus," Bobby greeted with a slightly stiff nod.

"Bobby," Rufus returned.

"Hey," Dean called from the kitchen, "where'd this bottle of Johnny Walker Blue come from?"

"That's mine, boy!" Rufus almost shouted, shooting Bobby a suddenly-warm grin and heading for the kitchen. "Dean Winchester, right?"

Jo hugged her mother again as Sam entered the study with a pile of books in his arms. "How was your Hunt?" he asked as Bobby helped him sort the books out.

"Good," Jo said. "Killed a lot of vamps. Rufus moves pretty well for a guy who spends most of his time hidin' out in his home."

"I heard that!" Rufus shouted. Sam chuckled, dimples showing and eyes bright.

Jo couldn't have been happier to finally be home again.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry," Dean said, "but a clear shot of what again?"<p>

"Her ears." Rufus repeated between sips of his whiskey. "Human ears are just as distinctive as fingerprints. The courts here in the U.S. don't put much stock in it, but over in England, it's all the rage."

Dean frowned and leaned back in his chair. The air had seemed a little stiff between Rufus and Bobby, but the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Dean had found on the counter seemed to be easing things considerably.

"I don't have any photos of her," Dean said sourly. "None of us do. And I doubt she still has fingerprints."

"Well," Rufus said, "I'm in the business of sellin' stuff to people to who find me and ask, so there's a chance she might come by at some point. I don't know why she's got your magic gun, but I promise to stay on the lookout."

"That's the best we can hope for at the moment," Ellen said to Dean as she placed a fresh apple pie on the table. Dean nodded his thanks and started cutting it up.

"Hey, what if we tried to find Lilith by tracking her lieutenants?" Jo suddenly asked from the study. "I mean, every evil leader has 'em, right?"

Dean turned around in his chair and met Sam's eyes. "It's an idea," Sam said slowly. "Ruby has yet to find a powerful enough tracking spell to locate her."

"It sounds like a good plan to me," Dean remarked, "but we can't kill Lilith without the Colt or Ruby's knife, which I doubt she'd just hand over."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not," he said. He hesitated for a moment (never a good sign), and then spoke again. "What if I —?"

"No, Sam," Dean cut him off. "We are _never_ going down that road again."

There was an awkward pause. Dean covered it by turning back to the table and taking a large bite of his slice of pie.

"This is delicious, Ellen," he said the moment he could speak again.

"Thanks, hun," Ellen said quietly.

"Dean," Sam said, "what if I'm the most powerful weapon we've got? What if the knife doesn't work on Lilith? What if the Colt doesn't, either?"

"I said no," Dean snapped, turning around again as he spoke and taking in Sam's angry expression. "It's _not_ worth the price you pay for it."

"But —"

"How many times do I gotta say it?" Dean all but shouted, standing and throwing his arms out. "Azazel _gave_ you that freakin' power, there is _no way in Hell_ that it could _ever_ be meant for something like this!"

"That's not what you were saying in the barn," Sam replied in a low tone.

"That," Dean said as he dropped his arms to his sides, "was different. There were dozens of lives at stake. This is all about me."

"You think the barn wasn't about you, too?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean, if I thought killing a Crossroads demon would end your Deal, then I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Boys," Bobby said from his desk.

"You said once that it scared you, the things you'd do for family," Sam continued, ignoring Bobby, "but you never hesitated to do whatever you could to save me or Dad."

"Sam…" Dean sighed and looked down.

"D'you really think that it doesn't go both ways?" Sam moved forward, and Dean glanced up to catch the earnest expression on his face. "That I wouldn't do the same for you?" He shook his head. "You're the one who taught me that love is as easy as breathing, and I —" Sam broke off and ducked his own head, looking a little embarrassed.

Dean didn't say anything, wondering what Sam might say next.

"Maybe you think I took advantage of that," Sam spoke softly, "but loving you… it just _is_, Dean. It was never complex like it was with me and Dad because you were always there, even if you sided with Dad in an argument or whatever. I never doubted that deep down. So don't — just don't think that I wouldn't do whatever I had to do to keep you alive and here."

Dean swallowed hard, completely at a loss as to what he could even _say_ to that. Sam met his eyes, smiled slightly, and left the room. A few seconds later, the front door squeaked open and then closed. Dean looked at Bobby's kind, but sad expression and turned away, taking his seat at the small kitchen table once more and shoveling more pie into his mouth.

It didn't taste quite as good this time.

* * *

><p>Rufus left for his home in Canaan, Vermont the next morning, promising to stay on the lookout for Bela and information on the Colt, and Jo started bugging her mother and Bobby about tying the knot.<p>

"We'll do it when we're damn ready," Bobby had finally snapped, earning a swat to the head from Ellen and laughter from Sam and Dean.

Meanwhile, Sam hadn't dared say more on the subject of the previous day with Dean, and his brother had done everything possible to avoid bringing it up. Bobby did start looking into finding demons that might have information on Lilith and her crew, though.

In the last days of January, Ellen and Bobby finally set up a wedding ceremony at the local courthouse for the end of the month.

"We're keepin' it simple," Ellen explained the day before the ceremony. She and Jo had been out of the house for several hours and returned with three large shopping bags. "Set up an appointment with the local justice where we'll sign the paperwork and call it good."

"So where were you and Jo earlier?" Dean asked.

"Shopping," Jo answered. "Need decent outfits for a nice occasion like this, doncha know?"

Dean blinked. "Please don't say suits and prom dresses," he said.

Jo laughed, happiness bubbling from every inch of her being. "Not fancy," she replied, setting the bags down. "Just nicer than what any of us own, that's all. Oh, and the rings." She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a smaller one. She handed it to her mother, who pulled out two ring boxes and tossed them to Dean. He opened them as Sam heaved himself off the couch in the study and rounded the desk to take a look.

Both bands were gold, and while Ellen's had three small diamonds set into it, Bobby's was simple. "I like them," Sam said. Dean nodded and closed the boxes.

"So, what time tomorrow?" Dean asked. "I don't gotta shave, do I? Or slick my hair back?"

"I sure ain't," Bobby said, taking the ring boxes from Dean and setting them on the desk. "We have to be there at ten in the mornin'."

"Awesome," Dean said. "We can take pictures and videos and eat out and stuff, right?"

"Yeah," Jo said with a warm smile. "The whole nine yards."

Nothing sounded better than that to Sam.

* * *

><p>It was a relatively simple affair.<p>

When Bobby had married Karen, it hadn't been a huge event, but there had still been floral arrangements and a rented tux and the like. Bobby had been so happy to marry Karen, but slightly uncomfortable with the entire wedding set-up.

It really wasn't the case here. In fact, it didn't even take long. Before Bobby knew it, he and Ellen were signing the marriage license. It was official. They were hitched, together for life and all that jazz.

It had been a long time since he had known such happiness as he felt in that moment.

* * *

><p>They were eating out when Dean's phone started ringing. He pulled it out and blinked.<p>

"Lisa," he said.

"You gonna answer?" Sam asked with a small smile.

Dean flipped open his phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Dean," Lisa said, sounding slightly hesitant. "Is… it's okay that I called, right?"

"Of couse," Dean said at once. "What's up? Everything okay? Is Ben —?"

"Ben's fine," Lisa quickly reassured him. "There's been a few bad dreams, but nothing too bad. We… well, we've moved, to a new city, still in Indiana. I got a new job set up and a new house and… I mean, there's a lot of boxes and furniture and I don't really know anyone else here yet —"

"Would you like some help getting settled in?" Dean asked with faint amusement.

"Yes," Lisa said, sounding relieved, "if it isn't too much trouble."

"Of course not," Dean said, unable to stop himself from smiling. "You want just my help, or —?"

"Sam can come, too," Lisa replied. "That telekinesis could come in handy, you know? I mean —"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Yeah. We could be there tomorrow afternoon, no problem."

"You sure?" Lisa asked. "I know you've got a lot going on, hunting and everything."

"We've got some downtime goin' right now," Dean grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

"Okay," Lisa said. "I'll text you the address. Thanks, Dean."

Dean flipped his phone shut and put it away.

"Should I say it?" Jo asked.

"Say what?" Dean asked, smile snapping into a confused frown.

Jo grinned. "Dean and Lisa, sittin' in a tree —"

"Oh, shuddup," Dean said, throwing a balled-up napkin at Jo's head.

Everyone else laughed.

"So what's up with Lisa?" Sam asked.

"She's moved," Dean said, "wants some help. You mind moving heavy objects with your brain?"

Sam blinked, clearly surprised that he was invited. "I can do that," he said. "When are we leaving?"

"First thing in the morning sound good?" Dean asked, glancing at Bobby and Ellen. "We're celebrating right now."

"Yes we are," Ellen said with a happy smile. She lifted her wine glass. "A toast to happy memories?"

"I will definitely drink to that," Dean said. "All the happy memories."

* * *

><p>Noblesville was the next big city over from Cicero, so it hadn't been a major move, but the fact that it was still winter meant that the neighbors hadn't exactly come out to play just yet. Ben was, at least, making new friends in his third grade class already and Lisa's yoga business was still doing well since a few of her clients from Cicero were either already from Noblesville or were willing to make the drive over, but her new home was still in disarray. At least it had come stocked with a fridge, freezer, dishwasher, clothes washer and dryer. Otherwise they would've been eating take-out every single night for the last two weeks.<p>

The next day, when the Winchesters pulled up in front of the house in their Impala, Ben was racing to the front door, yanking it open and running outside, hugging Sam and Dean while telling them about his new school and where he wanted his furniture placed in his new room and how he wanted to go to Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie for dinner. Lisa was startled to see Sam stiffen up slightly at the mention of the family restaurant.

"Do we have to go there?" he asked.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Ben cut him off. "It's fun there!" he exclaimed. "Lots of chicks! Didn't you ever go?"

"I used to take him there as a kid sometimes," Dean said, but Sam scoffed.

"More like dropped me off and went on the prowl for girls to flirt with," he said. "I hated it there."

Dean blinked. "I didn't know that." He frowned. "Wait, is that where you got your fear of clowns?"

"You're scared of clowns?" Ben asked with wide eyes. Lisa decided now was a good time to intervene.

"We could order pizza for dinner, instead," she said, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself as she approached the three males. "Hey Sam."

Sam gave her a warm smile as she leaned up to give him a quick hug and peck him on the cheek before wrapping her arms around his brother. "Dean."

"Hey," Dean said, voice suddenly a tad rougher as he hugged her back. "How you been?"

"Good," she said. "You're both looking pretty… good."

It wasn't exactly the truth. Dean looked a little more tired, but Sam looked like he had recently lost too much weight. He also looked a little too cold for her liking. "Come on in," she said, pulling away from Dean and ruffling Ben's hair. "I could make something instead of getting pizza."

"That's fine," Dean said quickly, "we're cool with pizza."

"It's not a problem," Lisa said. "No offense, but I doubt your lifestyle affords too many home-cooked meals."

"Our friend Ellen cooks all the time," Dean said. "We uh, we haven't been Hunting too much lately."

Lisa turned a critical eye on Sam. "Did a job go bad?" she asked. Sam flushed and shifted a little.

"Something like that," he said.

"What's the last monster you killed?" Ben asked suddenly. "Are vampires real? What about werewolves and witches and stuff?"

Dean chuckled. "I doubt your mom wants you to hear about all that stuff," he said.

"But I wanna know!"

"Ben, that's enough," Lisa said. "I'll get some pasta going with chicken, sound good?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "that sounds awesome."

"Ben, why don't you show Sam and Dean around the house?" Lisa asked her son. Ben nodded happily, grabbed at Dean's jacket sleeve and pulled him towards the front room, Sam following behind with a grin.

It was only then that Lisa realized Sam's left hand was shaking, and badly at that.

What had happened to him?

* * *

><p>Lisa made Sam and Dean crash in the spare bedroom that night, saying they could work tomorrow after breakfast. Dean had tried protesting, but the brunette wouldn't hear a word to the contrary and insisted it was the least she could do after making them drive all day to move furniture and stuff. She then had to remind Ben that just because the next day was a Saturday he couldn't stay up late or sleep in. "We're gonna be busy all day tomorrow," she said, "and I want an early start, got it?"<p>

"Yes, Mom," Ben said glumly, and Dean had to conceal a smile.

The brothers decided to split the work the next morning after breakfast. Sam moved all the heavy things with his telekinesis ("Can you do that, Dean?" "No, Ben, Sammy's the only one with freaky-awesome mind powers.") while Dean helped Lisa organize the various unpacked boxes. The funny thing, Dean realized, was how well they all worked together, how easily the playful banter came to them. Dean hadn't felt so relaxed in months, and even Sam's smiles were coming more easily.

It was almost like being a family.

Dean's heart ached at the thought. He had never expected to start finding new things to live for when there was still a good chance he might die at the end of April, no matter that he and Sam now shared their determination to keep it from happening.

He caught Sam throwing him a knowing glance and had to find a hasty excuse to leave the room.

* * *

><p>"Can you come to my birthday party this year?" Ben asked at the dinner table.<p>

Sam looked over at Dean, watched his fork freeze over the meatloaf Lisa had made, felt his emotions twist and turn. "I uh…" Dean cleared his throat and put his fork down. "I wanna say yes, Ben, but I don't know for sure if that's possible."

"Why not?" Ben questioned. "You showed up last year."

"That wasn't exactly planned out," Dean said with a weak smile. "I…" He trailed off and looked at Sam. Sam shrugged; he didn't really know what to say. "Ask at the beginning of May," Dean finally said. "We'll have an answer then."

Ben was placated by the answer, but Sam felt Lisa's curiosity and suspicion spike. Dean had made it pretty clear that he hadn't told Lisa about his Deal and expected that she continue to be kept out of the loop.

_What if you don't save him?_ Sam mind suddenly whispered. _Then what?_

He pushed the thoughts aside and continued eating.

But that night, it was too hard to keep the worrying thoughts at bay. Dean conked out almost at once, but Sam tossed and turned for some time before giving up and heading down to the kitchen for some water. He sensed Lisa's presence as he neared, but rather than retreat, he kept moving forward.

"Hey," Lisa said quietly as Sam stepped into the kitchen. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," Sam said awkwardly. He hadn't spent any kind of alone time with the woman before and wasn't certain how best to proceed. Thankfully, Lisa pulled a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with water. "Thanks," he said, taking it and sitting down at the table.

He felt Lisa's hesitation, followed by determination. "I can't answer your questions," he said before she could do so much as open her mouth. "I already promised Dean."

Lisa sat down next to him. "Is there a reason he needed you to make a promise?" she asked after a moment.

Sam chuckled slightly. "You're good."

"But you're still not gonna tell me."

"Nope."

Silence filled the kitchen for some time as Sam sipped his water. Finally he opened his mouth and asked, "D'you ever wish you'd never learned about what's really out there?"

He looked over at Lisa as she sighed. "Yes," she finally answered, "and no."

Sam gave her a questioning look.

"I never really forgot about Dean after he left the first time," she began, "even though there were a couple other guys around that same time before I learned I was pregnant with Ben."

"You never tried to find out who his dad is?"

Lisa shook her head. "It didn't matter because he was mine, you know? But I never forgot Dean. There was just… something about him that made me wonder." She sighed and pulled at the ends of her hair. "The world seems bigger and broader and scarier than it did before, but… I wouldn't trade that knowledge for anything if it meant not ever having seen your brother again."

Sam smiled and looked down at his almost-empty glass of water. "I think I get it," he said softly.

They both sat in companionable silence after that.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Jo called. "I think we might have a lead on a demon who could lead us to Lilith," she said the moment Dean answered his phone. "There's a trail of demonic activity going along I-90, starting in New York. Bobby's emailing you all the details."<p>

"Sounds good," Dean said. "Soon as we go through it all, we'll hit the road. Where's the most recent activity?"

"Montana," Jo replied, "a small town called Laurel, Mom and I are going there now. Oh, the activity is _really_ varied from one location to the next, if it weren't for the fact it's all on the same interstate and every place has sulfur, I think we would've missed it."

Dean nodded at Sam's laptop bag, and his brother instantly responded, pulling out the computer and booting it up. "Weird. Does that mean it isn't the same demon?"

"We don't know," Jo said. "The activity overlaps a couple times, but when it does, the sulfur stops showing up. I'm really not sure what's going on, to be honest."

"Okay, we'll see what we can figure out, then." Dean flipped his phone closed and moved over to where Sam sat at the kitchen table.

"Here we go," Sam said quietly, opening the email and attachments. He leaned back a bit after a moment and let Dean look closer without saying a word.

And with good reason. The activity ranged from serial rape to home invasions and murder, and not simple murders, either. Torturing of the victims. Dean sucked in a breath and righted himself as Lisa came downstairs fully dressed. She paused as she looked at the brothers. "Do you have a case?" she asked softly.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's a bad one. I know we were thinking about staying another day —"

"It's okay," Lisa cut him off, "I completely understand."

Within half an hour, the brothers were packed and ready to go.

"You promise to let me know if you can make it for my birthday?" Ben asked anxiously.

"I promise," Dean said. "You keep being good for your mom, you hear me?"

Ben smiled. "Yes, sir!"

Sam chuckled quietly as they said their good-byes. Just as Dean turned toward the Impala, however, Lisa caught his sleeve. "Dean," she said, "please be careful."

Dean turned back to her and smiled. "I'll do my best," he said.

Lisa nodded. "Best I can hope for," she sighed, reaching up and tugging Dean closer to her. The next thing he knew, they were kissing. "Good luck," Lisa whispered when they finally broke apart.

Dean carefully cupped the side of her face. "Thank you," was all he could get out.

Less than a minute later, the Impala roared out of Lisa's neighborhood, both Dean and Lisa silently wondering if they would ever see each other again.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


End file.
